Classic Poem

VEXILLA REGIS ,

THE

HYMN

OF THE HOLY

CROSSE .

I.

Look up, languishing Soull Lo where the fair
B ADG of thy faith calls back thy care,
And biddes thee ne're forget
Thy life is one long Debt
Of loue to Him, who on this painfull T REE
Paid back the flesh he took for thee.

II .

Lo, how the streames of life, from that full nest
Of loues, thy lord's too liberall brest,
Flow in an amorous floud
Of Water wedding Blood .
With these he wash't thy stain, transfer'd thy smart,
And took it home to his own heart.

III .

But though great L OVE , greedy of such sad gain
Usurp't the Portion of T HY pain,
And from the nailes and spear
Turn'd the steel point of fear,
Their use is chang'd, not lost; and now they move
Not stings of wrath, but wounds of love.

IV .

Tall T REE of life! thy truth makes good
What was till now ne're understood,
Though the prophetick king
Struck lowd his faithfull string,
It was thy wood he meant should make the T HRONE
For a more then S ALOMON .

V .

Larg throne of love! Royally spred
With purple of too Rich a red.
Thy crime is too much duty;
Thy Burthen, too much beauty;
Glorious, or Greivous more? thus to make good
Thy costly excellence with thy K ING 's own Blood .

VI .

Even ballance of both worlds! our world of sin,
And that of grace heavn way'd in H IM ,
Us with our price thou weighed'st;
Our price for us thou payed'st;
Soon as the right-hand scale rejoyc't to prove
How much Death weigh'd more light then love.

VII .

Hail, our alone hope! let thy fair head shoot
Aloft; and fill the nations with thy noble fruit.
The while our hearts and we
Thus graft our selves on thee;
Grow thou and they. And be thy fair increase
The sinner's pardon and the just man's peace.

[ VIII ]

Live, o for ever live and reign
The L AMB whom his own love hath slain!
And let thy lost sheep live to'inherit
That K INGDOM which this C ROSSE did merit.
A MEN .