O never cock would crow but he would see His Master's face as he denied him thrice; That brooding look which seemed so tenderly To say, O Peter, Peter, what a price You pay for your impulsiveness! Could fast Or tears of penitence redeem the past? At dawn, on that third day near Calvary, Did troubled Peter stride, remembering Each highlight of his Lord's brief ministry, Seeking for that to which his need must cling, Some memory to ease the nagging loss And answer the enigma of the cross? There was that first proud day when Jesus turned And gazing on them said, "Come—follow me. And ye shall fish for men.
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