Beneath an Eastern Sky (Poem by Albert Benjamin Simpson)

Beneath an Eastern Sky

A poem by Albert Benjamin Simpson (1843-1919)

Beneath an eastern sky,
Amid a rabble’s cry,
A man went forth to die
For me.

Thorn-crowned His lovely head,
Blood-stained His every tread;
Cross-laden, on He sped
For me.

Pierced through His hands and feet,
Three hours there on Him beat
Fierce rays of noontide heat
For me.

Thus wast Thou made all mine:
Lord, make me wholly Thine:
Grant grace and strength divine
To me.

In thought and word and deed,
Thy will to do, O lead
My soul, e’en though it bleed,
To Thee.