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<br/>
<h2> The Shadow of the Cross </h2>
<p>At the drowsy dusk when the shadows creep<br/>
From the golden west, where the sunbeams sleep,<br/>
<br/>
An angel mused: "Is there good or ill<br/>
In the mad world's heart, since on Calvary's hill<br/>
<br/>
'Round the cross a mid-day twilight fell<br/>
That darkened earth and o'ershadowed hell?"<br/>
<br/>
Through the streets of a city the angel sped;<br/>
Like an open scroll men's hearts he read.<br/>
<br/>
In a monarch's ear his courtiers lied<br/>
And humble faces hid hearts of pride.<br/>
<br/>
Men's hate waxed hot, and their hearts grew cold,<br/>
As they haggled and fought for the lust of gold.<br/>
<br/>
Despairing, he cried, "After all these years<br/>
Is there naught but hatred and strife and tears?"<br/>
<br/>
He found two waifs in an attic bare;<br/>
— A single crust was their meagre fare —<br/>
<br/>
One strove to quiet the other's cries,<br/>
And the love-light dawned in her famished eyes<br/>
<br/>
As she kissed the child with a motherly air:<br/>
"I don't need mine, you can have my share."<br/>
<br/>
Then the angel knew that the earthly cross<br/>
And the sorrow and shame were not wholly loss.<br/>
<br/>
At dawn, when hushed was earth's busy hum<br/>
And men looked not for their Christ to come,<br/>
<br/>
From the attic poor to the palace grand,<br/>
The King and the beggar went hand in hand.<br/></p>
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