Palm Sunday

When the sacred Name is spoken,
Bowed knee and bended head
Are the outward sign and token
That we feel what we have said:
Feel that Jesus, God most holy,
Tho' unseen, is somewhere nigh,
And, with reverence deep and lowly,
Worship as He passes by.

So when He, the Lord, did enter
His Jerusalem of old,
Souls and eyes in Him did centre,
Waves of welcome round Him roll'd:
And before that lowly Wonder
Raging hearts grew still and calm,
While they cast their garments under,
And his pathway strew'd with palm.

Yet the throng, that now rejoices,
Whose Hosannas rend the sky,
Soon shall shout, with treacherous voices,
Crucify Him, crucify!
They, who lowly now adore Him,
Soon shall fling their insults round,
Mocking, bow the knee before Him
Scarlet-robed, and thorn-encrown'd.

Therefore, when that Name is spoken,
And, with bended head or knee,
Thou dost give the outward token
Of thine inward fealty, —
Watch my soul! that every feeling
Be in concord with that sign,
Heart as well as body kneeling,
Thoughts as well as looks divine.