Proclaim Him, prophet harbinger!

          Make plain the Mightier's way,

      Thou sharer of His martyrdom!

          Elias? Yea and Nay[15].

      The crescent moon, that knew the Sun, 620

          Ere stars had learned to shine[16];

      The waning moon, that bathed in blood,

          Ere sank the Sun divine.

      "Glory to God!—good will to man!—

          Peace, peace!"—triumphal tone.

      "Why peace?" Is discord then no more?

          Are earth and heaven as one?

      Peace to the soul that serveth Him,

          The monarch manger-born;

      There, ruler of unnumbered realms; 630

          Here, throneless and forlorn.

      He wandered through the faithless world,

          A prince in shepherd guise;

      He called his scattered flock, but few

          The Voice did recognize;

      For minds upborne by hollow pride,

          Or dimmed by sordid lust,

      Ne'er look for kings in beggar's garb,

          For diamonds in the dust.

      Wept He above a city doomed[17], 640

          Her temple, walls, and towers,

      O'er palaces where recreant priests

          Usurped unhallowed powers.

      "I am the way, the life, the light!"

          Alas! 'twas heeded not.

      Ignored—nay, mocked—God scorned by man!—

          And spurned the truth He taught.

      O bane of damning unbelief!

          When, when till now so rife?

      Thou stumbling stone, thou barrier 'thwart 650

          The gates of endless life!

      O love of self, and mammon lust,

          Twin portals to despair,

      Where bigotry, the blinded bat,

          Flaps through the midnight air!

      Through these, gloom-wrapt Gethsemane[18]!

          Thy glens of guilty shade

      Grieved o'er the sinless Son of God,

          By gold-bought kiss betrayed;

      Beheld Him unresisting dragged, 660

          Forsaken, friendless, lone,

      To halls where dark-browed hatred sat

          On judgment's lofty throne.

      As sheep before His shearers, dumb,

          Those patient lips were mute;

      The clamorous charge of taunting tongues

          He deigned not to dispute.

      They smote with cruel palm a face

          Which felt yet bore the sting;

      Then crowned with thorns His quivering brow, 670

          And, mocking, hailed him "King!"

      Transfixt He hung,—O crime of crimes!—

          The God whom worlds adore.

      "Father forgive them!" Drained the dregs;

          Immanuel[19]—no more.

      No more where thunders shook the earth,

          Where lightnings tore the gloom,

      Saw that unconquered Spirit spurn

          The shackles of the tomb.

      Far-flaming might, a sword of light, 680

          A falchion from its sheath,

      It cleft the realms of darkness, and

          Dissolved the bands of death.

      Hell's dungeons burst, wide open swung

          The everlasting bars,

      Whereby the ransomed soul shall win

          Those heights beyond the stars.