The Way

Here is another poem I have used in my lessons. I believe it is by Archbishop Fulton Sheen, but am not totally certain.

The Way
By Fulton Sheen

I slipped His fingers,
I escaped His feet,
I ran and hid, for Him I feared to meet.
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.