I think that I shall never see a poem lovely as a tree. - Joyce Kilmer

At the foot of the Cross on Calvary Three soldiers sat and diced, And one of them was the Devil And he won the Robe of Christ.

Perhaps he lives and dies unpraised, This trafficker in humble sweets, Because his little shops are raised By thousands in the city streets. Yet stars in greater numbers shine, And violets in millions grow, And they in many a golden line Are sung, as every child must know.

There is no strange and distant place That is not gladdened by His face. And every nation kneels to hail The Splendour shining through Its veil.