The Secret of the Cross

One day His Voice smiled into my ear:

“Carry thy cross, child, and have no fear;

Let none see thee to sympathize;

Let Me wipe those tears from out your eyes.

Carry it hidden—covered with beauty—

Not in self-pity, nor in grim duty;

But so glorified, that none can guess

There’s a cross beneath such loveliness!”

“Carry it gladly, with a smile—

Don’t come sadly, even a mile;

Cover it well, yes, with flower-sheath—

None will guess what is underneath.

God, alone, must see and know

Thy bleeding heart—He wants it so!

“This is thy cross, then,” He said to me,

“to suffer, thus, when men can’t see.”

“No cross you bear, when all can see—

And sympathize, and weep with thee;

Misunderstood—mine are—“He saith,

“As even was I, in life and death.

Take the way of the cross, with joy and song,

Suffering loss—suffering wrong—

Covering woe and sorrow with blossoms fair,

That none may know the cross you bear.”

“Let men see only the flowers abloom

And be lifted by their sweet perfume—

Sweet fragrance floating everywhere,

Reminiscent of joyful praise and prayer.”

O, teach me, Lord, to bear like Thee—

In the great grace of Calvary—

My cross, disguised in roses sweet—

All unsurmised by those I meet!

—N.L.