<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=386548" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Brier: Good Friday</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Because, dear Christ, your tender, wounded arm<br>Bends back the brier that edges life's long way,<br>That no hurt comes to heart, to soul no harm,<br>I do not feel the thorns so much to-day.<br>Because I never knew your care to tire,<br>Your hand to weary guiding me aright,<br>Because you walk before and crush the brier,<br>It does not pierce my feet so much to-night.<br>Because so often you have hearkened to<br>My selfish prayers, I ask but one thing now,<br>That these harsh hands of mine add not unto<br>The crown of thorns upon your bleeding brow.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Emily+Pauline+Johnson">Emily Pauline Johnson</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=386548" data-title="Brier: Good Friday de Emily Pauline Johnson" data-description="Because, dear Christ, your tender, wounded arm Bends back the brier that edges life's long way, That no hurt comes to heart, to soul no harm, I do not feel the thorns so much to-day. Because I never knew your care to tire, Your hand to weary guidi..."></div> </div> </div>

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