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.
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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.
Every pang that rends the heart.
Every pang that rends the heart.
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.
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.
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.
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!
The Pilot of the Galilean Lake.
The Pilot of the Galilean Lake.
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.
Fra Lippo, we have learned from thee
A lesson of humanity:
To every mother's heart forlorn,
read more
Fra Lippo, we have learned from thee
A lesson of humanity:
To every mother's heart forlorn,
In every house the Christ is born.
