The Seed by Robert William Service

 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?

Form: Ballad

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