Poem of the Week CXXI

I Slipped His Fingers
from an unknown author, published in Fulton Sheen's Life is Worth Living:

I slipped His fingers, I escaped His feet.
I ran and hid, for Him I feared to met.
One day I passed Him, fettered on a tree.
He turned His head, looked, and beckoned me.

Neither by speed, nor strength could He prevail.
Each hand and foot was pinioned by a nail,
He could not run and clasp me if He tried,
But with His eye, He bade me reach His side.
For pity's sake thought I, I'll set you free.
'Nay-hold this cross,' He said, 'and follow me.'
'This yoke is easy, this burden light,
Not hard or grievous if you wear it tight.'
So did I follow Him who could not move,
An uncaught captive in the hands of Love.