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Into the woods, my Master went,
Clean forspent, forspent,
Into the woods my Master came,
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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.
Christ beside me, Christ before me, Christ behind me, Christ
within me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me.
Christ beside me, Christ before me, Christ behind me, Christ
within me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me.
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.
Thou hast conquered, O Galilaean.
[Lat., Vicisti, Galloloae.]
Thou hast conquered, O Galilaean.
[Lat., Vicisti, Galloloae.]
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.
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.
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.
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,
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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.