University of Virginia Library

Thus far had Satan toil'd with boiling rage,
Nor could the deadliest woes his hate asswage,
But the Messiah spitefully pursues
To aid the malice of the envious Jews;
Yet like to stones when thrown against the wall,
Which oft with fury on the slinger fall,
So Satan's schemes pursu'd with so much toil,
Did on his head with tenfold rage recoil.
Tho' he had gain'd the Judge, Christ to condemn,
And made his dearest friends his woes contemn
And flee away, yea more his name deny
With execrations too his works defy:
Tho' now deliver'd to the raging throng,
Who like a torrent hurry'd him along,
And brought him fainting to the cursed tree,
Quite void of that sublime solemnity
Which does th' affecting scene of death attend,
And tho' their tongues almost the Heavens rend
With crucify, the Monarch to us bring,
We'll crucify that false pretending King;—
Yet 'midst of torture, clamour, taunts, and woe,
Christ rose triumphant o'er our deadly foe.
With wounds unheal'd, fill'd with malicious strife
While streams of blood flow'd from the Lord of life,
The Jews compel him now to bear the cross
(Doom'd to retrieve our first and fatal loss)
Thro' crouds of people gather'd to the feast,
And as their spleen, his torture sore increas'd;
He reels and staggers o'er the stony road,
He faints, he falls, beneath the pond'rous load.
Tho' Priests and Elders who at Pilate's call
Attended the procession, saw him fall;
Regardless of his anguish, all their care
Was to procure a stranger, fit to bear
The cross to Calvary—
So blind we move, when reason's brightest ray
Is overcome, and fury leads the way.

As they approached near the city gate
Where thousands did with sighs and sorrows wait
To view their Saviour's wounds, which they deplor'd
In useless tears,—all that they could afford
To ease his griefs,—when to them thus bespake
Their pitying God:—Oh! weep not for the sake
Of my sad ills, but rather mourn your own
And children's, for the time will soon be known
Which tender Nature shudders to relate,
When war and tumult shall o'erwhelm your state:
In all its horror, famine too shall reign,
Yea in the great extremity of pain,
Of furious hunger crimes ye will abett,
And all the fond endearing ties forget,
Which anxious parents to their offspring bear,
Whose infant charms will only aid despair.
In this distress which I to you foreshew,
Happy are those who barrenness shall know,
And blest those breasts which never gave relief
To harmless sucklings,—such will be your grief
That clad in dire amaze to caves you'll run,
Afraid to view the brightness of the Sun;
Yea, then such dreary horrors will unite,
The hills you will invoke at the sad sight
To fall to hide you from th' Eternal's might.
With weary steps our Saviour now ascends
The mountain's height, there to compleat the ends
Of Man's redemption: Calv'ry! I thee view
With op'ning scenes of joy and wonder too;
From thy exalted name made sacred now,
Jesus the Lord fulfills his holy vow:
The distant isles repeat the welcome sound,
From Calvary is now Salvation found.

The fatal tree now on the mountain rear'd,
The Paschal Lamb's the offering prepar'd,
Who calmly waited the impending blow,
The executioner inflicts with woe.
Like as the butcher with unfeeling mind,
The harmless victim does for slaughter bind,
Nor lets his pleading looks his eyes engage,
But heedless strikes the blow with brutal rage.

E'en so the monster did his ills prepare—
Christ's graceful body he extends in th' air;
Then on the tree wide spreads his holy arms,
And thro' the sinews of his sacred palms
With cruel force the tort'ring nail he strikes,
And thro' his feet fierce drives the harden'd spikes.
Thus fasten'd was the Lord in great distress,
Yet as the Serpent in the wilderness
Was lifted up as Jesus had foretold,
So he was rear'd that all might him behold.
Yea, tho' he was between two culprits plac'd,
Whence ignominious censure might be trac'd;
Their wrath fulfill'd the Scripture without flaw,—
He's number'd with transgressors of the law.

Confirm'd in guilt, with conduct vilely base,
Again the impious Pilate shew'd his face,
And to give colour to his unjust laws
On the rear'd cross inserts th' offending clause,
“Jesus of Naz'reth Monarch of the Jews,”
That by the title he might guilt infuse.—
What wretched art, Pilate proclaim'd him free,
Spotless, and one wherein no fault could be;
Tho' he had heard from Christ his holy case,
Would stigmatize him with the worst disgrace;
But he whose merits are to heal and bless,
Tho' now enwrapt in languishing distress,
Blasphem'd by all, yet still the God we view,
Father forgive,—these know not what they do!

The dark and dismal hour now drawing on
When the Messiah must for sin atone
For sinful Man—in misery immers'd
His fever'd blood brings on a deadly thirst.
Thus he by whom Creation was display'd,
Whose wisdom earth, sea, air, and all things made,
In dying agony so far was spent,
That in the bitter hour of languishment
He cry'd, I thirst—
Th' inhuman Jews attended at his call,
And gave him mingled, vinegar with gall;
Such was their pity—nor could those accord,
Those guilty Thieves, who suffer'd with the Lord,
The one with harden'd guilt dar'd him upbraid,
The other thus besought his Saviour's aid.—
O gracious Lord! take pity on my soul,
And cleanse me of my sins, most vile and foul;
With heart-felt grief and sorrow I bewail
My wicked life, let not thy goodness fail
Me, tho' a wretched sinner, set me free,
My suff'ring Lord, my God remember me!
To whom the dying Jesus thus reply'd,—
As thou with faith hast on my pow'r rely'd,
That benediction I this instant seal
Which all sincere repentant sinners feel—
Be happiness secur'd within thy breast,
Receive the promise of eternal rest.

Now round the Christ increasing tortures flow,
The moment of accumalated woe,
The pow'rs of Sin, of Death, and Hell attend,
Distress and pain his soul with anguish rend;
Forsaken and forlorn, not one to pour
One ray of comfort in this dreadful hour;
His chosen Twelve, whom he secur'd from harm,
Were all dispers'd, with terror and alarm;
And in th' extreme of this dejected state,
Abandon'd by the Godhead, then the weight
Of all the human guilt upon him lay,
This was the grievous debt he came to pay
In infinite distress—all comfort fail'd
When in this crisis sad he thus bewail'd:—
“Eli, Eli, lama sabacthana?”
“My God, my God, hast thou forsaken me?”
For Man's eternal bliss on earth I came,
To ransom him I suffer grief and shame;
And now 'tis finish'd, holy Jesus cry'd,
Then meekly bow'd his sacred head and dy'd.