HYMN.
THE WASHING OF THE ALTAR ON GOOD FRIDAY.
I
Pour forth the wine-floods rich and dark
Over the altar-stone:
The time is short; the yew-trees, hark,
How mournfully they moan—
It is the sacred blood of Christ
By angels poured o'er earth;
While sable turns to amethyst
And death to the new birth.
II
O'er all the altar pour the wine
With joyful strength amain;
The streams alone from God's great vine
Can clear that altar's stain—
It is the Saviour's wondrous blood:—
The ensanguined planet now
Ascends from this baptismal flood
As bright as Christ's own brow.
III
The flood that cleanses on and in
Roll, sacred brethren, roll;
But Thou whose suffering purged our sin,
O wash each sinful soul!
It is the atoning blood of Him
By Whom all worlds are shriven:
Who lights with love our midnight dim
And changes earth to Heaven.
