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Robert W Service - The Seed
Work rating: Medium

I was a seed that fell
          In silver dew;
And nobody could tell,
          For no one knew;
No one could tell my fate,
          As I grew tall;
None visioned me with hate,
          No, none at all.

A sapling I became,
          Blest by the sun;
No rumour of my shame
          Had any one.
Oh I was proud indeed,
          And sang with glee,
When from a tiny seed
          I grew a tree.

I was so stout and strong
          Though still so young,
When sudden came a throng
          With angry tongue;
They cleft me to the core
          With savage blows,
And from their ranks a roar
          Of rage arose.

I was so proud a seed
          A tree to grow;
Surely there was no need
          To lay me low.
Why did I end so ill,
          The midst of three
Black crosses on a hill
          Called Calvary?
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