He never spoke a word to me,
And yet He called my name;
He never gave a sign to me,
And yet I knew and came.
At first I said, "I will not
His cross upon my back;
He only seeks to place it
Because my skin is black."But He was dying for a dream,
And He was very meek,
And in His eyes there shone a
Men journey far to seek.
It was Himself my pity bought;
I did for Christ
What all of Rome could not have
With bruise of lash or stone.
