Brier: Good Friday
Brier: Good Friday
Original Text
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.
Publication Start Year
1912
RPO poem Editors
Ian Lancashire
RPO Edition
RPO 1997-2000.
Rhyme