Classic Poem

Bound in a malefactor's chains
Malice his innocence arraigns;
Malice her venom'd spittle throws,
Fierce Malice deals her fiercest blows.

With crown of thorns his temples bleed,
With cruel stripes his back is flea'd
Behold the man — " The cross, " they call
" The cross, " and rend the judgement hall.

What evil has he wrought? " Away,
" Barabbas save this fellow slay. "
Bloody and faint he bears along
His cross, amidst a hooting throng.

Inconstant throng! the day before
Heard your wide mouths hosannas roar:
" Messiah, king , " with shoutings loud
You hail'd him O inconstant crowd!

Ingrates! where shall your lame, your blind,
Your sick another healer find?
Whence shall another Jesus come,
To guide you to his father's home?

Ah! they have nail'd him to the tree,
Between the sons of infamy
And now the scornful head they shake
And now th' insulting jest they break.

But oh! what tongue his grief can tell,
When on his soul that darkness fell?
" My God, my God and Father, why
" By thee forsaken must I die? "

Flow, flow my tears, in torrents flow;
My sins, dear Lord, wrought all thy woe.
Help my weak faith, and with thy pow'r
Uphold me in temptation's hour.