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.

And Jesus saith unto him, The foxes have holes, and the birds of
the air have nests; but the read more

And Jesus saith unto him, The foxes have holes, and the birds of
the air have nests; but the Son of man hath not where to lay his
head.

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.

The Pilot of the Galilean Lake.

The Pilot of the Galilean Lake.

His love at once and dread instruct our thought;
As man He suffer'd and as God He taught.

His love at once and dread instruct our thought;
As man He suffer'd and as God He taught.

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.

Thou hast conquered, O Galilaean.
[Lat., Vicisti, Galloloae.]

Thou hast conquered, O Galilaean.
[Lat., Vicisti, Galloloae.]

God never gave man a thing to do concerning which it were
irreverent to ponder how the Son of read more

God never gave man a thing to do concerning which it were
irreverent to ponder how the Son of God would have done it.

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.