Classic Poem

I never see upon a hill
Cedar or pine or olive tree,
But what I think of One who died
On Calvary.

I never hear the hammer's ring
Driving the nail deep in the wood,
But that I see pale hands whose palms
Are red with blood.

I never feel the dark come down
But that I hear a piercing cry
That tears my heart. " Eloi . . . lama
Sabachthani! "

I never see upon a hill
— Cedar or pine or olive tree,
But what I think of One who died
— On Calvary.

I never hear the hammer's ring
— Driving the nail deep in the wood,
But that I see pale hands whose palms
— Are red with blood.

I never feel the dark come down
— But that I hear a piercing cry
That tears my heart. " Eloi . . . lama
— Sabachthani! "