Poems / The Quest

Blessed Cross

pilgrimsprogressThus far did I come laden with my sin;
Nor could ought ease the grief that I was in,
Till I came hither: What a place is this!
Must here be the beginning of my bliss?
Must here the burden fall from off my back?
Must here the strings that
bound it to me, crack?
Blessed cross! Blessed sepulcher! Blessed rather be
The Man that there was put to shame for me.
John Bunyan, Pilgrims Progress
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