Classic Poem

A King — if any might in Kingship is,
If ever King had power to slay or save,
To smite the oppressor or to free the slave,
Or glory from a thousand victories:
The might, the power, the glory shall be His
A hundredfold — to Him they shall be given
Who comes in triumph on the clouds of heaven;
— That was the promise; the fulfilment this.

I saw a crowd that mocked and jeered and yelled,
" Call God to help Thee — art Thou not His Son?"
And in the midst, above them, I beheld
A gallows, and a wretch who hung thereon,
A naked, bloody, torn, and broken thing.
Above his head was written this — " The King."