“Four Crosses,” Ensign, June 1978, 29
They say three crosses on the hill
Stood dark in silhouette
Between the evenings at the hour
Our Lord his passion met.
The saddest tears are spilled unseen;
Only to God are known.
Near to his side another soul
Was crucified, alone.
There were four crosses on the hill;
Four borne to Calvary.
All crosses are not made of wood;
Mary’s they could not see.