Thoughts on Good Friday

Oh, my love is dead —

My Love died for me;

His blood dripping red

On Mount Calvary.

My Love has gone away —

My Love seems to be no more.

Oh, forget not that day,

He who died — the one who I adore.

He said, “Thy will be done”

And said it again for me,

That night when God’s Son

Suffered in the garden of Gethsemane.

Now I crouch at His feet,

Overwhelmed with my loss;

Stricken like Mary

At the foot of His cross.