 | The poetical works of Henry Alford |  |
XCII. THAT DAY WAS THE PREPARATION, AND THE SABBATH DREW ON.
Rise and depart, thou highly-favoured one,
From the sad cross, by thine adopted led:
Enough of bitter tears hath now been shed:
“Behold thy mother, and behold thy son.”
The meed of promised glory is not won,
The Prince of Life is numbered with the dead;
Each lingering hope of blessedness hath fled;
The treason hath been wrought—the dark deed done.
From the sad cross, by thine adopted led:
Enough of bitter tears hath now been shed:
“Behold thy mother, and behold thy son.”
The meed of promised glory is not won,
The Prince of Life is numbered with the dead;
Each lingering hope of blessedness hath fled;
The treason hath been wrought—the dark deed done.
Thus down the steep of cruel Calvary
Passed those two holy mourners, hand in hand:
But as the brooding darkness from the land
Rose curtain-like, so comfort cheerily
Broke dawning on their hearts, and visions high
Of glory yet unshaped went dimly by.
Passed those two holy mourners, hand in hand:
But as the brooding darkness from the land
Rose curtain-like, so comfort cheerily
Broke dawning on their hearts, and visions high
Of glory yet unshaped went dimly by.
| The poetical works of Henry Alford | |