And on his brest a bloodie crosse he bore,
The deare remembrance of his dying Lord,
For read more

And on his brest a bloodie crosse he bore,
The deare remembrance of his dying Lord,
For whose sweete sake that glorious badge he wore.

Every pang that rends the heart.

Every pang that rends the heart.

Therefore, friends,
As far as to the sepulchre of Christ--
Whose soldier now, under whose blessed cross
read more

Therefore, friends,
As far as to the sepulchre of Christ--
Whose soldier now, under whose blessed cross
We are impressed and engaged to fight--
Fourthwith a power of English shall we levy,
Whose arms were moulded in their mother's womb
To chase these pagans in those holy fields
Over whose acres walked those blessed feet
Which fourteen hundred years ago were nailed
For our advantage on the bitter cross.

The Pilot of the Galilean Lake.

The Pilot of the Galilean Lake.

In darkness there is no choice. It is light that enables us to
see the difference between things; and read more

In darkness there is no choice. It is light that enables us to
see the difference between things; and it is Christ that gives us
light.

A pagan heart, a Christian soul had he.
He followed Christ, yet for dead Pan he sighed,
read more

A pagan heart, a Christian soul had he.
He followed Christ, yet for dead Pan he sighed,
As if Theocritus in Sicily
Had come upon the Figure crucified,
And lost his gods in deep, Christ-given rest.

Who did leave His Father's throne,
To assume thy flesh and bone?
Had He life, or had read more

Who did leave His Father's throne,
To assume thy flesh and bone?
Had He life, or had He none?
If he had not liv'd for thee,
Thou hadst died most wretchedly
And two deaths had been thy fee.

Hail, O bleeding Head and wounded,
With a crown of thorns surrounded,
Buffeted, and bruised and battered,
read more

Hail, O bleeding Head and wounded,
With a crown of thorns surrounded,
Buffeted, and bruised and battered,
Smote with reed by striking shattered,
Face with spittle vilely smeared!
Hail, whose visage sweet and comely,
Marred by fouling stains and homely,
Changed as to its blooming color,
All now turned to deathly pallor,
Making heavenly hosts affeared!

Lovely was the death
Of Him whose life was Love! Holy with power,
He on the thought-benighted read more

Lovely was the death
Of Him whose life was Love! Holy with power,
He on the thought-benighted Skeptic beamed
Manifest Godhead.