The Eastern Window: The Crucifixion

If there be aught of health in these Thy Saints,
Reliev'd from mortal taints,
'Tis but that they their feeble thoughts have rais'd,
And upon Thee have gaz'd ;
And follow'd Thee from Bethlehem's lowly room,
To Calvary's solemn gloom.
Then let us hang our eyes and hearts on Thee,
And dwell upon Thy dying agony
On the accursed tree !
There let us flee, as to a holy tower
Against the world ; and learn the silent power
Of that sad awful hour !
Thy suffering opes to us the heavenly gate,
And nought to Thee can raise our fallen state,
But our own selves to hate :
For suffering only and self-sacrifice
Can fix the heart where Faith her God descries —
Within the op'ning skies.

From Bethlehem's stable, with the beasts around,
To Calvary, 'tween two thieves on cursed ground,
Thou didst with griefs abound,
And, like a cloke, wrap round Thee all our shame,
While rough rude words of mockery mar Thy name,
And toil and pain Thy frame.
Tamar and Rahab stain thy lineage ;
Foul Egypt cradles Thy first tender age,
Judah pursues with rage.

Nazareth, of evil name, Thy childhood rears,
And then drives from her; next Thy sojourn bears,
But nurseth more Thy tears,
Capernaum, worse than Sodom. No kind roof
Shelters Thee ; Thine own household stand aloof,
Or taunt with cold reproof.
Thy Kingly court a Galilean few,
And scorn'd by Galilean and by Jew,
An outcast heathen crew.
Thy Kingly Coming to Thy Salem proud,
Was sitting at a leper's 'mid the crowd,
Anointed for Thy shroud.
Thine entrance, for the King of sorrows meet,
Was shedding tears o'er Thine imperial seat
Rejoicing at Thy feet.

Not only Thine High-Priest hath witness borne,
But the whole Council, met on that dread morn,—
And Herod in his scorn, —
And the whole people, — yea, for these sole ends
The Pharisee and Sadducee are friends.

A chosen one that tends
Thy watchings and Thy walks is found alone
The fit Arch-traitor ; Thine own Twelve disown ;
E'en Peter hath not known.
They for a murderer cry aloud, nor cease,
Lest a relenting heathen should release,
And spare the Prince of Peace.
E'en now Thine innocent sides with scourging bleed,
That Pity from their bleeding mouths might plead ;
But they hear not, nor heed.
The very scorn of men, a trampled worm,
The winds Thou temperest to each tender form,—
Thyself dost bear the storm !
Now rais'd on high, a Kingly throne is given ;
Thine outstretch'd hands with fangs of iron riven :
O sight for earth and Heaven !
'Mid dead men's bones and many an uncouth thing,
And such a crown and such apparelling,
Full meet for such a King !
And we would be Thy subjects ; o'er and o'er
The world for evermore
Acts the same part against thee, still the same
Tho' with a different name —
Caiaphas, Herod, Judas : — John alone
Beneath Thy Cross is known.