 | The last night of Pompeii |  |
MARIAMNE.
“To men a mocked and homeless stranger,
Thy truth, love, grace and goodness blest
The world, whose first gift was a manger,
Whose last, the Cross! no down of rest
Thy truth, love, grace and goodness blest
The world, whose first gift was a manger,
Whose last, the Cross! no down of rest
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Pillowed, O Christ! thy holy head,
No crown, but thorns, Thy temples wreathed,
Yet Thou the Death King captive led,
And through the tomb a glory breathed!
The scorner all Thy love reviled,
Thy path was pain, thy kingdom, shame,
Yet sorrow on thine aspect smiled,
E'en Death revered Thy deathless name!
The bittern moans where Zion stood,
The serpent crawls where nations trod—
Be with us on the mountain flood!
Fill our dim hearts with light from God!
No crown, but thorns, Thy temples wreathed,
Yet Thou the Death King captive led,
And through the tomb a glory breathed!
The scorner all Thy love reviled,
Thy path was pain, thy kingdom, shame,
Yet sorrow on thine aspect smiled,
E'en Death revered Thy deathless name!
The bittern moans where Zion stood,
The serpent crawls where nations trod—
Be with us on the mountain flood!
Fill our dim hearts with light from God!
| The last night of Pompeii | |