And God, as Thou art, comes to suffering.
No, no; this scene from Thee takes life, and sense,
And soul, and spirit, plot and excellence.
Why then, begin, great King! ascend Thy throne,
And thence proceed to act Thy Passion
To such an height, to such a period raised,
As hell, and earth, and heav'n may stand amazed.
God and good angels guide Thee; and so bless
Thee in Thy several parts of bitterness,
That those who see Thee nail'd unto the tree
May, though they scorn Thee, praise and pity Thee.
And we, Thy lovers, while we see Thee keep
The laws of action, will both sigh and weep,
And bring our spices to embalm Thee dead;
That done, we'll see Thee sweetly buried.
_Scurf and bran_, the rabble.
264. HIS WORDS TO CHRIST GOING TO THE CROSS.
When Thou wast taken, Lord, I oft have read,
All Thy disciples Thee forsook and fled.
Let their example not a pattern be
For me to fly, but now to follow Thee.
265. ANOTHER TO HIS SAVIOUR.
If Thou be'st taken, God forbid
I fly from Thee, as others did:
But if Thou wilt so honour me
As to accept my company,
I'll follow Thee, hap hap what shall,
Both to the judge and judgment hall:
And, if I see Thee posted there,
To be all-flayed with whipping-cheer,
I'll take my share; or else, my God,
Thy stripes I'll kiss, or burn the rod.
266. HIS SAVIOUR'S WORDS GOING TO THE CROSS.
Have, have ye no regard, all ye
Who pass this way, to pity Me,
Who am a man of misery!
A man both bruis'd, and broke, and one
Who suffers not here for Mine own,
But for My friends' transgression!
Ah! Sion's daughters, do not fear
The cross, the cords, the nails, the spear,
The myrrh, the gall, the vinegar;
For Christ, your loving Saviour, hath
Drunk up the wine of God's fierce wrath;
Only there's left a little froth,
Less for to taste than for to show
What bitter cups had been your due,
Had He not drank them up for you.
267. HIS ANTHEM TO CHRIST ON THE CROSS.
When I behold Thee, almost slain,
With one and all parts full of pain:
When I Thy gentle heart do see
Pierced through and dropping blood for me,
I'll call, and cry out, thanks to Thee.
_Vers._ But yet it wounds my soul to think
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