Poem February 18, 1928 ISSUE

[Written for the Sentinel]

Peter

LORNA BURROWS

HE loved his Master truly, deeply—yet, Upon that night of gloom, confused by fears, Thrice he denied him. Then his face was wet With tears repentant—aye, with bitter tears.

The Master saw—beneath confusion, fear, Impetuous denial—Love's own son, The perfect man, untouched by sin, so near The tender Father that the real was won.

Send a comment to the editors
NEXT IN THIS ISSUE
Article
In a recent issue of your paper, under the heading of...
February 18, 1928
Contents

We'd love to hear from you!

Easily submit your testimonies, articles, and poems online.

Submit