1.
“It is the blood that maketh an atonement for the soul.”
“Ye shall pour it upon the earth as water.”
Blood from His Hands is falling, drop by drop,
And from His Temples; now in streams they roll—
Haste downward to the earth as to their goal;
Now hang on His pale Body, and there stop,
Or on the wood below; till from the top
Unto the base the blood-stains mark the whole.
Such is the value of each human soul,
Which doth outweigh the world; and such the crop
Of thorns which Adam sowed in Paradise.
What marvel, then, at sight of such deep woe,
If penitential love should hide her eyes
From all the pleasant things which are below,
In cloistral cells of prayer; nor seek relief
But in each sternest discipline of grief?
