Exceeding light the weight of glory
on the shoulders of the blessed;
the goal is God, a joyful quarry
His yoke is easy, light His quest.
The good of God already given
feeds the happy pilgrim band
in their packs a taste of heavín
Christ the Manna, close at hand.
Whom we seek already present
our ending in our start, we find;
equally each moment pleasant
each river crossed, each mountain climbed.
Note! Jesus Christ for joy endured the cross
so we, for joy, may also suffer loss.
Poems from the Eighth Decade
Copyright © Harold Macdonald 2004 used with permission
Harold Macdonald Poetry
Ashes to Easter