John Thorkild Ellison
Good Friday In The Village - Poem by John Thorkild Ellison
They've garlanded Your Cross with flowers
And put it in the market place
And I have shed so many tears,
Longing so much to see Your face.
They've draped Your Cross with daffodils
But they have made me realise
It's human kind alone that kills
And only God who dies.
Comments about Good Friday In The Village by John Thorkild Ellison
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye
William Ernest Henley
Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night