Calvary. Book VI. the Crucifixion

"On us and on our children be his blood!"— Such was your imprecation, O ye Jews, When in your sight the world's Redeemer stood Gash'd o'er with wounds, and emptying ev'ry vein For man's redemption; and behold! it flows, It whelms upon you in a flood-gate tide; Steep'd to the lips ye are in all the blood Of all the righteous shed upon the earth, From blood of righteous Abel to the blood Of Zechariah, whom your fathers ston'd Betwixt the altar and the house of God. Ye have enough; the mark is on your race; Ye have drawn down the judgment ye provok'd, It rests upon you: Yet for you no rest, No station, no abiding-place is found; Strangers and weary wand'rers upon earth, If in the dust of your Jerusalem With foot proscrib'd ye dare to tread, ye die; A savage race usurps your sacred mount, And Jordan echoes an unhallow'd name; Should ye but stop to shed a filial tear Upon the soil where your forefathers sleep, Woe to the circumcis'd that so is found! Oh! slow of heart, when will ye understand, That thus afflicted, scatter'd and dispers'd Through every clime and kingdom of the world Ye are sent forth to publish, as ye pass, How truly CHRIST predicted of your fate; And though your lips deny, your sufferings prove That prophet JESUS, whom your fathers slew, Was Savior, Christ, Messias, Son of God. Amidst the throng that fill'd the judgment-hall Stood JUDAS; he upon the watch to' avoid The Master's eye with caution took his post; Yet was his ear to all that JESUS spake Still present, and, though few the words, yet strong And potent of those few the' impressive truth. There was a magic sweetness in his voice, A note that seem'd to shiver every nerve Entwin'd about his heart, though now corrupt, Debas'd and harden'd. Ill could he abide, Murderer although he were, the dying tones Of him, whom he had murder'd: 'Twas the voice As of a spirit in the air by night Heard in the meditation of some crime, Or sleep-created in the troubled ear Of conscience, crying out, Beware! It smote Upon the soul, for it was CHRIST who spake, Well then might JUDAS tremble; 'twas the traitor Listning the plea of innocence betray'd, Well might that plea awaken his remorse. When the perverting witnesses depos'd To crimes, of which he knew his Master free, The refutation quiver'd on his lips, And hard he struggled to bring forth the words, Yet could not, tongue-ty'd with despair and shame. But if his hearing so alarm'd his heart, What were his feelings, when at times his eye Glanc'd on the sacred person of his Lord, Bound like a felon, his defenceless hands In manacles confin'd behind his back, His cheeks with blows sufflated, and his face, Oh, piteous! with blaspheming slaver stain'd; Then stripp'd, transform'd, in purple stole array'd, Saluted with the insolent All-hail, King of the Jews! a spectacle of sport And merriment to all the scoffing crowd? Could heart of man bear this, who had beheld His miracles, his mercies; prov'd his love, His patience, his forbearance; shar'd his cares, His labors and his watchings; heard his voice, When tempest-tost, rebuke the elements, Though silent now amidst the roar of tongues? 'Twas all that priestly malice could inflict, But more than MAMMON's convert could support. Yet worse had these tormentors in reserve To agonize his soul, another scene To shift new horrors on that bloody stage: The torturing scourge now sounded in his ears, The mangled flesh flew off in tatter'd stripes, The crimson stream ran down, the pavement drank Libation of his immolated blood: The hall rebellow'd with the echoing cry Of monsters, who applauded every stroke, Wolves, vultures, Oh, for words to speak them worse! Men turn'd to daemons. Traitor though he were, Son of perdition, this was all too much. Take hence, he cried, take back your bribe accurst, Damn'd price of damning deed! Tell o'er your coin; Count out your thirty pieces, for each piece Is thirty thousand daggers to my heart: Burthen'd too much already with my sins, I should but into worse damnation sink Under this mercenary load opprest. I have betray'd the innocent; too late For pardon, I am past redemption lost; Ye may redeem the time, if ye recall Your fatal condemnation and atone To that just person ye have doom'd to death; If not, ye crucify the Lord of Life. This said, he threw the thirty pieces down And strait departed; they to his retort Short answer made remorseless and malign. And now disburthen'd of his filthy bribe, It seem'd as though his conscience would permit A momentary pause for one short gleam Of hope to visit his benighted soul: 'Twas something like atonement, 'twas one step Turn'd backward from the precipice of sin And pointed tow'rds repentance; 'twas the last Faint effort that reluctant nature made To struggle 'gainst self-murder; but how vain! For MAMMON, once the tyrant of man's heart, Ill brooks expulsion thence, from youth to age, From age to life's extremest hour he holds Absolute empire, nor does hell contain Spirit so jealous of usurp'd command. He in the bosoms of those impious priests Held high pre-eminence, and them amidst, Himself unseen, had noted all that pass'd; And much indignant to be now abjur'd Of that compunctious traitor, swift as thought, Such was his power of motion, took the form And habit of that Levite first assum'd, And him close following to the outward hall, There with these taunting words assail'd his ear. A losing game, friend JUDAS, thou hast play'd To set thy soul upon a desperate cast, And after pay the stake on either side. What folly is it to be knave by halves! Who would strike virtue in the face, and then Ask pardon for the blow; fall off from truth, Enlist with falsehood and take pay for treason, Then by a paltry plea of restitution Think to compound one trespass by another, Desertion by desertion? Get thee hence, Thou shame to manhood! wring out the sad dregs Of thy detested life in hopeless tears, For thou hast thrown away both worlds at once; All gain in this, all glory in the next. And what art thou, cried JUDAS, so to gall A wounded spirit, wounded by thy arts, Tempter accurst? Human thou canst not be, Else thou wouldst find some pity in thy heart For wretch like me. Who but thyself seduc'd My loyalty from CHRIST? Who sapp'd my faith? Who fix'd this adder to my breast but thou? Thou, daemon as thou art, hast hurl'd me down From my high hope to fathomless abyss Of misery and despair, from heav'n to hell. Rail not on me, quoth MAMMON, but thyself And thine own folly; there the charge were just. Didst thou not sell thy Master for a bribe? My part was faithfully perform'd; the price Condition'd for was paid. What wouldst thou more? I needed treason, and I sought out thee As fittest for my purpose: Envious, proud, Lustful of pelf, a villain ready-made And ripe for mischief, such I mark'd thee down; Nay, and yet better; for I thought thee whole And perfect villain with no rotten part Of penitence to mar thee; but, behold, Thou hast deceiv'd me vilely, and hast got A blinking vice about thee, a perverse And retrograde depravity of soul, That makes thee hateful to my sight: Begone! That thou art wicked put not me to blame; Hadst thou been constant I had made thee rich, And riches would have sav'd thee from contempt; Now thou art poor and loathsome. Hence; avaunt! One remedy I'll give thee for despair, This cord, a remnant of thy Master's bonds; A legacy most opportunely left To heal thy cares and recompence thy love: Take, and apply it to it's proper use; It tied his limbs: Let it encase thy throat. He said, and stooping, from the pavement took The cord there left, and hurling it with scorn To the desponding traitor disappear'd: Nor did that wretch the fatal gift reject, But eager seiz'd the instrument of death, And soon within a darksome vault beneath The judgment-hall fit solitude he found And beam appropriate to his desperate use; Whereto appendent he breath'd out his soul, Not daring to put up one prayer for peace At his dark journey's end; but trembling, wild, Confus'd, of reason as of hope bereft, With heaving breast and ghastly staring eyes There betwixt heav'n and earth, of both renounc'd, Hung terrible to sight, a bloated corpse. Oh! how shall rash and ignorant man presume To judge for God, and on his narrow scale Think to mete out by limits and degrees Immeasurable mercy? Who can tell How high the sorrows of man's suffering heart Ascend tow'rds heav'n, how swift contrition flies, What words find passage to the throne of grace, What in mid-way are lost, dispers'd in air And scatter'd to the winds? Oh! that my harp Could sound that happy note, which stirs the string Responsive, that kind Nature hath entwin'd About the human heart, and by whose clue Repentance, heav'nly monitress, reclaims The youthful wanderer from his dang'rous maze To tread her peaceful paths and seek his God: So could my fervent my effectual verse Avail, posterity should then engrave That verse upon my tomb to tell the world I did not live in vain. But heedless man, Deaf to the music of the moral song, By Mammon or by Belial led from sin To sin, runs onward in his mad career, Nor once takes warning of his better guide, Till at the barrier of life's little span Arriv'd, he stops: Death opens to his view A hideous gulph; in vain he looks around For the lost seraph Hope; beside him stands The tyrant fiend and urges to the brink; Behind him black despair with threat'ning frown And gorgon shield, whose interposed orb Bars all retreat, and with it's shade involves Life's brighter prospects in one hideous night. So JUDAS fell; so like him every wretch, By the same filthy Mammon lur'd, shall fall. Meanwhile the vengeful daemon unappeas'd, Pond'ring the warning of his Stygian Lord Late driv'n from earth, and mindful that the charge And conduct of hell's host on him devolv'd Now claim'd his wariest thought, upon the wing Sets forth full sail to summon his compeers, As many' as in that quarter might be found, And them apprize of their foul loss incurr'd By their great captain's fall, and what dispatch Behoves them now put forth timely to 'scape Impending danger of their chief foreseen, If CHRIST's death-hour should unawares surprize Them idly station'd, or with curious gaze Hovering about his cross. So forth he goes: But first to spy the land he wheels his flight Athwart Mount Calvary, and there on guard A file of heav'nly warriors he descries Covering the sacred hill, and at their head GABRIEL in golden panoply array'd, Arm'd at all points, commander of the band. The fate of SATAN and the recent sight Of CHEMOS' ghastly wound, with guilty fears Haunting his coward fancy, warn'd him fly Beyond the range of that strong spear, from which Spirit more warlike than himself had fled. As when a pirate galley on the scout, Roving the seas of some strong-guarded coast, In bay or inlet moor'd under the lea Of headland promontory' at anchor spies A warlike fleet, whose tow'ring masts and sails Unbent for sea bespeak their ready trim, Down goes the helm at once, the felon crew Bestir all hands and veer the vessel round To seaward, then ply oars and sails for life: So at the sight of that angelic band The Stygian scout wheel'd round and sped his flight Sheer to the wilderness on swiftest wing. There on the watch AZAZEL haply found He bade sound forth the loud Satanic trump, Heard through all Palestine, at call whereof Spi'rits, to whatever element affix'd, In troops swift-posting on the charmed winds, Came from all parts; from Sidon and from Tyre New ris'n amidst the waves; from Gaza's coast, Meridian limit, to the snow-capt mounts Hermon and Libanus, and them beyond From Epidaphne on Orontes' stream, Fam'd for it's grove prophetic; from the banks Of Pharphar and Abana, Rimmon's haunts; From Byblus, where Astarte's wanton train Howl for the death of Thammuz, yearly lost And found as oft by the love-frantic dames. These on the desart heath alighting stand Obedient to the signal; all around Expectant of their arch-angelic chief They cast an anxious look, but look in vain: Him in far other region they shall find In chains fast bound amidst eternal fires, His dismal dwelling, for them also' reserv'd In God's appointed time. To whom the fiend. I muse not, warriors, that ye stand amaz'd To see yourselves in absence of our chief Here summon'd by his arch-angelic trump, Which other breath than his before ne'er fill'd; But public danger urges this bold step, In me presumptuous, had I not to plead Your safety for my warrant, and withal His last sad mandate earnestly bequeath'd At parting, when sole witness I beheld His utter loss, discomfiture and flight. Ah, friends! how sympathetic with my soul Is that deep general groan, which now I hear! Full cause, immortal mourners, have we all To groan and beat our breasts, nor I the least, Whose melancholy task it is to pour These heavy tidings in your grieved ears. But let us yet remember what we are, And be not therefore heartless, though bereft Of him, who was the head and brain of all. Many and mighty are the chiefs yet left, Though he prime chief no longer shall review This widow'd host. Of SATAN the return Is desp'rate, such a whirlwind caught him up, So strong a southern blast at CHRIST's command Blew him beyond the stretch of angel ken Right onward to the realm of antient Night Impetuous through the empyrean void Sheer on the level wing. Of him the fate Is worse than doubtful; of his Victor's power And Godhead irresistible what proof Greater than this sad downfall can we need, Or after such example what provoke? Behoves us now prepare for instant flight; This our late chief, prophetic in his fall, With his last words enjoin'd me to propound To these our legions scatter'd o'er the coasts Of Palestine, whom else the coming hour Of CHRIST's mysterious passion shall involve In like disgrace and ruin with your prince, Who to his latest moment upon earth Was studious of your safety. I have now In words unworthy of my charge, yet such As heart o'erwhelm'd with sorrow can supply, Surrender'd to your ears my painful trust. But whither to repair, whom to elect As captain and conductor of this host, Now headless, conscious that such high command With none but with the worthiest should be lodg'd, I, as becomes me, to your wiser thoughts Submit, and with the general choice shall close. No more, for now with sudden panic seiz'd, The Stygian host, no voice imperial heard Nor rule nor order kept, uprose at once Disbanded, lawless; dreadful was the yell Of that infernal rout, a swarm as thick As locusts, making horrid night beneath Their wings, that with like clangor beat the air, As of a flock of cormorants disturb'd From some lone island on the rocky coast Of Chili, where they haunt; so they with cry More hideous mount, there hover for a while, Then to all points disperse, as chance falls out, Or short consult prescribes. Some to the South With Isis and Osiris at their head To Memphis, Thin and Tamis take their flight; There with the bestial deities to herd, Birds, serpents, reptiles, monsters of the Nile, Gods that would half unfurnish Noah's ark: Some with Melcartus, demi-god of Tyre, Light short, and in his temple refuge take, Where arm'd with massy club and lion hide His huge athletic idol frowning stands: Others with Rimmon eastward wing their way To fam'd Damascus; there in bow'ring shades By rilling fountains on the flowery turf To doze away the soft oblivious hours, A slumb'ring synod: Some the golden spires Of Nineveh attract and Nisroc's fane, Stain'd with Sennacherib's imperial blood, There by the parricidal princes shed: To Byblus and Belitus others speed, Light feathery wantons by Astarte led With loose love-ditties and soft smiles lur'd on To page her pride and deck her amorous sports: But of the rest far greater part repair To high Olympus, where presides the power Of thundering Baäl; he that station keeps Pre-eminent o'er all the idol gods, And in his festive hall rich nectar quaffs With purple lips, and midnight revels holds Luxurious, sensual, lewd, in vice immers'd: Yet some there were and of no vulgar note, Who, grief to tell! to the biforked mount Flew off, and there with the Parnassian maids Held shameful dalliance, from whose lewd embrace Descended a whole family of bards Corruptive, illegitimate and base; A spurious breed of wickedness and wit; A Muse's genius with a Daemon's heart: MAMMON meanwhile, a solitary sprite, Selfish, morose and ev'n by dev'ils abhorr'd, Hied him alone, on sordid thoughts intent, To rummage in Pactolus' sands for gold; None join'd, nor sought he partner in his flight, His sole ambition to engross and hoard. Now came the awful consummation on, The hour of promise, dimly shadow'd out By types and prophecies, when from the womb Of mystery, long travailing in pains And groanings, now in ripe time should spring forth Her full form'd revelation to dispel Th' Obscure of antient days and usher in Twin birth of Immortality and Life. Now God by the' off'ring of his only Son The type of Abraham's sacrifice fulfill'd, Who, though unconscious of that type, by faith Righteous, was of the promises made heir. And now, as Moses in the wilderness Lifted the serpent, so the Son of man Exalted on the cross shall heal the world Of sin, and expiate the wide-wasting plague. Now the peace-offering of the spotless Lamb By one conclusive Passover shall rend The law's symbolic veil, and all absolve, Whose consciences are sprinkled with his blood, From punishment entail'd upon the world By man's first disobedience. Forth He comes From condemnation: Ye too from your tombs Come forth, ye prophets!—Son of Amoz, thou Prepare for resurrection: Come and see, Not darkly' as in a glass, but face to face, The object of thy vision; Him, the man Of sorrows; Him, who like a lamb is brought To slaughter: Mark the travail of his soul; Witness how he is stricken for our sins, Witness how we are healed by his stripes, And by the note and comment of his death Construe thine own predictions. Forth he comes From condemnation under Roman guard, Bearing his cross: Upon his bleeding brow, Ensign alike of royalty and woe, A thorny crown; no friendly hand is found To wipe away the tear mingled with blood, That hangs upon his cheek: The soldiers cry, Room for the criminal! and rest their pikes To keep the crowd aloof; staggering beneath The ponderous burthen of his cross he faints And sinks to earth o'erspent, till one is found, A sturdy stranger of Cyrenean birth, On whom to lay the venerable load. Hail, SIMON! blessed above men wert thou, If faith in Him that suffer'd on that cross Glow'd in thy heart and furnish'd thee with zeal To render this last service to thy Lord. Without the city walls there was a mount Call'd CALVARY: The common grave it was Of malefactors; there to plant his cross It was decreed: Long was the way to death, And like th' ascent to glory hard to climb. Upon the summit stood the Angel troop Of MAMMON seen, though to man's filmed eye Invisible: Here GABRIEL from the heighth Noting the sad procession, had espied The suffering Son of God amidst the throng Dragg'd slowly on by rude and ruffian hands To shameful execution: Horror-struck, Pierc'd to the heart th' indignant Seraph shook His threat'ning spear, and with the other hand Smote on his thigh in agony of soul For man's ingratitude; glist'ning with tears His eyes, whence late celestial sweetness beam'd, Now shot a fiery glance on them below, Then, raising them to heav'n, he thus exclaim'd. Oh! that the Everlasting would permit His Angels to chastise these impious men, And from their hands his holy Son redeem, Whom in the heav'n of heav'ns we have beheld Beloved of the Father, ever blest, At the right hand of Pow'r in glory thron'd! But this for purposes beyond our reach God ever wise forbids, and who against God's interdict shall stir? Therefore retire, Stand off and wait the time! If CHRIST commands, We are his ministers to do his will, Be it to lift this mountain from it's base And whelm it on his murderers; if not, Patient spectators we must here abide And let the sacrilegious work proceed; Knowing that God hath said, I will revenge: Vengeance belongeth to the Lord alone. Now on the news of their great Prophet's fate Each heart with fearfulness and trembling seiz'd, Through all Jerusalem the tumult ran; Native or stranger, aged or infirm, None in the Holy City now kept house: Where'er the Savior pass'd his presence drew Thousands to gaze; and many' an aching heart Heav'd silent the last tributary sigh In memory of his mercies; zealous some Rush'd in the grateful blessing to bestow For health or limbs or life itself restor'd: But these the soldiers rudely thrust aside, And some with brutal violence they smote, Thick'ning their files to hem their Pris'ner close, As fearful of a rescue. Loud the cry Of women, whose soft sex to pity prone Melts at those scenes, which flinty-hearted man Dry-ey'd contemplates: Mothers in their arms Held up their infants, and with shrill acclaim Begg'd a last blessing for those innocents, Whose sweet simplicity so well he lov'd, And ever as he met them laid his hands Upon their harmless heads with gentle love And gracious benediction, breathing heav'n Into their hearts. Oh! happy babes, so blest! Fenc'd in with shields and spears and compass'd round With Roman guards the persecuting priests, Elders and scribes follow'd their Victim's steps Amidst the scoffs and hissings of the crowd; And still as CHRIST approach'd the fatal spot Loud and more loud the sad lamentings grew, Till at the foot of the funereal mount Arriv'd he stopt, and, turning to the group Of mourners, these prophetic words address'd. Daughters of Solyma, weep not for me, Weep rather for yourselves and for your babes; For lo! the dawn of sorrows is at hand; The dread prediction presses to the birth, When through Jerusalem a voice shall cry— Give thanks, ye childless matrons, and confess A barren bed, your worst misfortune deem'd, Now your best blessing: Break forth into joy, Ye, at whose breasts no infant ever hung, For ye have none to mourn. Now to the clefts And caverns of the mountains they shall say, Fall on us, cover us, ye rocky vaults, And hide us from this wrath! For if with us Already it begins, what shall the end Of the ungodly and the sinner be? If the green tree cannot abide the storm, How shall the dry escape?—And now no more: Upon the summit of Mount CALVARY They rear his cross; conspicuous there it stands An ensign of salvation to the world. Kneel, all ye Christian nations! bow your hearts And worship your Redeemer, in whose death Ye live, and from whose issuing wounds flows life, By his blood purchas'd; hope's best promise flows Of joys immortal for the just reserv'd. The soldiers, now by their centurion form'd In hollow orb around the cross, begin Their horrid prelude to the murd'rous scene; And first his vesture, their accustom'd spoil And perquisite, they part; but for his coat From top to bottom woven without seam, That they rend not, but on it cast their lots Whose it shall be entire. Upon his cross In Hebrew, Greek and Latin they inscribe, So PILATE will'd though by the priests oppos'd, "JESUS OF NAZARETH, KING OF THE JEWS!" This title, in three several tongues display'd, Read all those crucifiers of their King And murmur'd as they read; hard to the last, Obdurate, unbelieving. Now began The executioners to spread his arms Upon the beam transverse, and through his palms, Monsters of cruelty! and through his feet They drove their spiked nails; whilst at the clang Of those dire engines every feeling heart Utter'd a groan, that with the mingled shrieks Of mothers and of children pierc'd the air. The priests and elders gnash'd their teeth for rage And rancorous spite to hear him so bewail'd: Women dropt down convuls'd and on the spot Let fall their burthens immature for birth. Words fail to paint the horrors of that scene: The very soldiers paus'd and stood aghast, Musing what these lamentings might portend; Scarce dar'd they to pursue the dreadful work Awe-struck and gazing on the face divine Of the suspended Savior. He, though stretch'd Upon the rack of agony, to heav'n Raising his eyes—Father of mercy, cried, Forgive them, for they know not what they do! O ruthless murderers! could ye hear these words And yet persist? Blasphemers! can ye read And not adore? The people stand at gaze: The rulers eager to provoke anew Their quailing resolution with one voice Cry out amain—Ah! thou, that on the cross Now hangest, thou, that boastedst to destroy Our temple and rebuild it in three days, Where art thou? If thou be the very CHRIST, The King of Israel, now come down, descend And save thyself; this seeing, we will then Confess thee and believe. But 'tis in vain; He hears not, he replies not, he expires: Others he sav'd; himself he cannot save. Peace, peace, revilers! nor expect reply: Think not that CHRIST, thus dying for mankind, Will from his great commission turn aside And stop the sacrifice and quit the cross, On which his body offer'd up for sin As on an altar lies. Your taunts he hears; Yet will he not descend call'd down by you, Nor at the door of death shrink back and leave Short of perfection his all-glorious work. But wait the time and greater sign than this Ye shall behold, when rising from the dead And incorruptible he shall return On earth triumphant o'er the cross and death. Yet, such is the perverseness of your hearts, Him nor descending would ye now believe, Nor re-ascending will ye then confess. And now behold! on either side the cross Of CHRIST a wretched malefactor hung Groaning and writhing in the pangs of death: When one of these, encourag'd by the taunts Of the reviling priests, scornful exclaims— Hear'st thou not what they say? If thou be CHRIST, Why art thou in this torture? Save thyself, And us thy fellows from this cross redeem— This when his penitent companion heard, New horrors smote his heart, his fault'ring voice He rais'd and thus the blasphemy rebuk'd. Hast thou no fear of God, expiring wretch? Stretch'd as thou art upon the tree of death, Hast thou no terror for the wrath to come? And truly we the merited reward Of our ill deeds receive, but this just Man, What hath he done? In him no fault is found. This said, the penitent with faith inspir'd Upon the Savior turn'd his dying eyes, And—Lord! he cried with supplicating voice, When to thy heav'nly kingdom thou shalt come, Oh then remember me!—To him the LORD— I tell thee of a truth this very day Thou shalt be found in Paradise with me. Oh! words of joy, that breathe into the ear Of the expiring penitent the pledge Of pardon and acceptance: Words, that waft The soul yet hovering on the lips of faith Into the heav'n of heav'ns, with grateful heart We hail the glorious promise, which unfolds The gates of bliss and present entrance gives To the repentant sinner. Now no more Conjecture ponders on the life to come; Our dying Savior draws aside the veil, Through which dim reason caught a doubtful glimpse Of shadowy realms, that stretch'd beyond the grave, Elysian scenes in clouds and mist involv'd. Yet with this comfort take the caution too; For who shall say what penitence was his, That earn'd this promise? Fatally he errs, Whose hope fore-runs repentance, who presumes That God will pardon when he's tir'd of sin And like a stale companion casts it off. Oh! arrogant, delusive, impious thought, To meditate commodious truce with Heaven, When death's swift arrow smites him unprepar'd, And that protracted moment never comes, Or comes too late: Turn then, presumptuous man, Turn to the other sinner on the cross, Who died reviling, there behold thy doom! Thou too, the Virgin Mother of our Lord, By the angelic salutation hail'd Blest above women, thou amidst the group Of sympathising mourners at that hour Wast present, when th' incarnate Virtue, born Of thine immac'ulate womb, impregn'd of Heav'n, Hung on the cross expiring: He from thence On thee disconsolate a dying look Of tenderest pity cast, and at thy side Noting the meek disciple whom he lov'd, Thus both address'd—Woman, behold thy son; Son, look upon thy mother!—Sacred charge, And piously fulfill'd.—Now darkness fell On all the region round; the shrowded sun From the impen'itent earth withdrew his light: I thirst!—the Savior cried, and lifting up His eyes in agony—My God, my God! Ah! why hast thou forsaken me?—exclaim'd. Yet deem him not forsaken of his God: Beware that error: 'Twas the mortal part Of his compounded nature breathing forth It's last sad agony, that so complain'd: Doubt not that veil of sorrow was withdrawn, And heav'nly comfort to his soul vouchsaf'd, Ere thus he cried—Father! into thy hands My spirit I commend:—Then bow'd his head And died. Now GABRIEL and his heav'nly choir Of minist'ring angels hov'ring o'er the cross Receiv'd his spi'rit, at length from mortal pangs And fleshly pris'on set free, and bore it thence Upon their wings rejoicing. Then behold A prodigy, that to the world announc'd A new religion and dissolv'd the old: The temple's sacred vail was rent in twain From top to bottom 'midst th' attesting shocks Of earthquake and the rending up of graves: Now those mysterious symbols, heretofore Curtain'd from vulgar eyes and holiest deem'd Of holies, were display'd to public view: The mercy-seat with its cherubic wings O'ershadow'd and the golden ark beneath Covering the testimony now through the rent Of that dissever'd vail first saw the light. A world redeem'd had now no further need Of types and emblems, dimly shadowing forth An angry Deity withdrawn from sight And canopied in clouds: Him face to face Now in full light reveal'd the dying breath Of his dear Son appeas'd, and purchas'd peace And reconcilement for offending man. Thus the partition wall, by Moses built, By CHRIST was level'd, and the Gentile world Enter'd the breach by their great Captain led Up to the throne of grace, opening himself Through his own flesh a new and living way. Then were the oracles of God made known To all the nations, sprinkled by the blood Of JESUS and baptiz'd into his death; So was the birth-right of the elder-born, Heirs of the promise, forfeited; whilst they, Whom sin had erst in bondage held, made free From sin and servants of the living God, Now gain'd the gift of God, eternal life. Soon as these signs and prodigies were seen Of those who watch'd the cross, conviction smote Their fear-struck hearts: The sun at noon-day dark, The earth convulsive underneath their feet, And the firm rocks in shiver'd fragments rent Rous'd them at once to tremble and believe. Then was our Lord by heathen lips confess'd, When the centurion cried—In very truth This righteous person was the Son of God— The rest in heart assenting stood abash'd, Watching in silence the tremendous scene: The recollection of his gracious acts, His dying pray'rs and their own impious taunts Now rose in sad review; too late they wish'd The deed undone and sighing smote their breasts. Strait from God's presence went that Angel forth, Whose trumpet shall call up the sleeping dead At the last day, and bade the Saints arise And come on earth to hail this promis'd hour, The day-spring of Salvation. Forth they came From their dark tenements, their shadowy forms Made visible as in their fleshly state, And through the Holy City here and there Frequent they gleam'd, by night, by day with fear And wonder seen of many: Holy seers, Prophets and martyrs from the grave set free, And the first-fruits of the redeemed dead. They, who with CHRIST transfigur'd on the mount Were seen of his disciples in a cloud Of dazzling glory, now in form distinct Mingling amidst the public haunts of men, Struck terror to all hearts: Ezekiel there, The captive seer, to whom on Chebar's banks The heav'ns were open'd and the fatal roll Held forth with dire denunciations fill'd Of lamentation, mourning and of woe, Now falling fast on Israel's wretched race: He too was there, Hilkiah's holy son, With loins close girt and glowing lips of fire By God's own finger touch'd: There might be seen The youthful prophet, Belteshazzar nam'd Of the Chaldees, interpreter of dreams, Knowledge of God bestow'd, in visions skill'd And fair and learn'd and wise: The Baptist here Girt in his hairy mantle frowning stalk'd, And, pointing to his ghastly wound, exclaim'd— Ye vipers! whom my warning could not move Timely to flee from the impending wrath, Now fallen on your heads; whom I indeed With water, CHRIST hath now with fire baptiz'd: Barren ye were of fruits, which I prescrib'd Meet for repentance, and behold! the axe Is laid to the unprofitable root Of every sapless tree, hewn down, condemn'd And cast into the fire. Lo! these are they, These shadowy forms now floating in your sight, These are the harbingers of antient days, Who witness'd the Messias and announc'd His coming upon earth. Mark with what scorn Silent they pass you by: Them had ye heard, Them had ye noted with a patient mind, Ye had not crucified the LORD OF LIFE: He of these stones to Abraham shall raise up Children, than you more worthy of his stock; And now his winnowing fan is in his hand, With which he'll purge his floor, and having stor'd The precious grain in garners, will consume With fire unquenchable the refuse chaff. Thus the terrific Vision in the ears Of the astonish'd multitude declaim'd With threat'ning voice, and wrung their conscious hearts; Whilst the blaspheming priests, who in their scorn Triumphant saw the Savior of the world Expiring on the cross and deem'd him lost, Now by the resurrection of the saints, Usher'd on earth with prodigies and signs, Confounded and amaz'd, began to doubt If yet the sepulchre had power to keep It's crucified Possessor safe in hold, And with these thoughts perplex'd, masking their fears Under pretence of caution, they repair To PILATE and demand a Roman guard To watch the tomb of CHRIST, and then they add— For we remember that Deceiver said, Whilst he was yet alive, after three days I will again arise; therefore we pray Command the sepulchre to be made sure Till the third day, lest his disciples come By night and craftily remove him thence; So the last error shall outgo the first. But PILATE, whose unrighteous judgment still Sate heavy on his heart, had little care For what might them befall, and to their suit Briefly reply'd—Why do ye ask of me That custody, which in yourselves ye have? Take your own watch and to their charge commit The safeguard of that body, which, though dead, Keeps yet alive your fears: 'Tis your own cause, As such I leave it with you; so begone! He said and turn'd aside, nor did they tempt Further discourse, but murm'ring went their way.