Brier: Good Friday
E. Pauline Johnson (Tekahionwake), Flint and Feather: The Complete Poems, with Introduction by Theodore Watts-Dunton and a Biographical Sketch of the Author, Illustrated by J. R. Seavey, 7th edn. (1912: Toronto and London: The Musson Book Co., Ltd., 1921): 67. PS 8469 O3F5 1921 Robarts Library.
1Because, dear Christ, your tender, wounded arm
2 Bends back the brier that edges life's long way,
3That no hurt comes to heart, to soul no harm,
4 I do not feel the thorns so much to-day.
5Because I never knew your care to tire,
6 Your hand to weary guiding me aright,
7Because you walk before and crush the brier,
8 It does not pierce my feet so much to-night.
9Because so often you have hearkened to
10 My selfish prayers, I ask but one thing now,
11That these harsh hands of mine add not unto
12 The crown of thorns upon your bleeding brow.
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