I See His Blood Upon a Rose
 Allan Bevan

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I see his blood upon the rose

And in the stars the glory of his eyes,

His body gleams amid eternal snows,

His tears fall from the skies.


I see his face in every flower;

The thunder and the singing of the birds

Are but his voice-and carven by his power

Rocks are his written words.


All pathways by his feet are worn,

His strong heart stirs the ever-beating sea,

His crown of thorns is twined with every thorn,

His cross is every tree.




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