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Every pang that rends the heart.
Every pang that rends the heart.
But chiefly Thou,
Whom soft-eyed Pity once led down from Heaven
To bleed for man, to teach read more
But chiefly Thou,
Whom soft-eyed Pity once led down from Heaven
To bleed for man, to teach him how to live,
And, oh! still harder lesson! how to die.
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.
Into the woods, my Master went,
Clean forspent, forspent,
Into the woods my Master came,
read more
Into the woods, my Master went,
Clean forspent, forspent,
Into the woods my Master came,
Forspent with love and shame.
But the olives they were not blind to Him,
The little gray leaves were kind to Him:
The thorn-tree had a mind to Him,
When into the woods He came.
The Pilot of the Galilean Lake.
The Pilot of the Galilean Lake.
Thou hast conquered, O pale Galilean;
The world has grown gray from thy breath;
We have drunken read more
Thou hast conquered, O pale Galilean;
The world has grown gray from thy breath;
We have drunken from things Lethean,
And fed on the fullness of death.
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.
And so the Word had breath, and wrought
With human hands the creed of creeds
In loveliness read more
And so the Word had breath, and wrought
With human hands the creed of creeds
In loveliness of perfect deeds,
More strong than all poetic thoughts;
Which he may read that binds the sheaf,
Or builds the house, or digs the grave,
And those wild eyes that watch the waves
In roarings round the coral reef.
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.