 | Women must weep |  |
CROSS AND CUP.
Sad the sight, and false the order
Fix'd on things by fallen man,
Written on the ragged border
Of the Magdalen we ban;
Stamp'd in staring, lurid letters
In the hearts that helpless ache,
In the worse than iron fetters
Which no mortal hand can break;
In the eyes so blear'd and sodden,
And with scarce a human glow;
In the spirits deep down trodden—
Cup above, and Cross below.
Fix'd on things by fallen man,
Written on the ragged border
Of the Magdalen we ban;
Stamp'd in staring, lurid letters
In the hearts that helpless ache,
In the worse than iron fetters
Which no mortal hand can break;
In the eyes so blear'd and sodden,
And with scarce a human glow;
In the spirits deep down trodden—
Cup above, and Cross below.
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Wo to those, who mix in malice
Draughts for others dear as they,
Brimming high the poison chalice,
For the easy, foolish prey;
Woe to those, who tempt the mother
With the wretched babe at breast,
Thus the maddening shame to smother
In repose that is not rest;
Wo to him, with satyr-vices,
Although life should be the loss,
Who to fatal feasts entices,
Setting cup before the Cross!
Draughts for others dear as they,
Brimming high the poison chalice,
For the easy, foolish prey;
Woe to those, who tempt the mother
With the wretched babe at breast,
Thus the maddening shame to smother
In repose that is not rest;
Wo to him, with satyr-vices,
Although life should be the loss,
Who to fatal feasts entices,
Setting cup before the Cross!
Wo to those, who lightly harken
To the tempter's honey'd voice,
And while skies in mourning darken,
Make the miserable choice,
For its bondage, growing sadder,
To a dungeon rises up,
Till it biteth as an adder,
Breeding death within the cup;
If they hug the chains that bind them,
Just to please a passing thirst—
Dare to thrust the Cross behind them,
Put the cup of devils first.
To the tempter's honey'd voice,
And while skies in mourning darken,
Make the miserable choice,
For its bondage, growing sadder,
To a dungeon rises up,
Till it biteth as an adder,
Breeding death within the cup;
If they hug the chains that bind them,
Just to please a passing thirst—
Dare to thrust the Cross behind them,
Put the cup of devils first.
Old and perfect is the order,
Whisper'd to the trembling heart
Read in Nature, God's recorder,
Traced in every wondrous part;
Known from cradlehood and nursing,
Taught through tears and bitter strife—
Cup of gold is cup of cursing,
Cross of dying cross of life;
But the founts that flow with blessing
Open all the heaven of love,
Unto trust the truth confessing,
Cup below and Cross above.
Whisper'd to the trembling heart
Read in Nature, God's recorder,
Traced in every wondrous part;
Known from cradlehood and nursing,
Taught through tears and bitter strife—
Cup of gold is cup of cursing,
Cross of dying cross of life;
But the founts that flow with blessing
Open all the heaven of love,
Unto trust the truth confessing,
Cup below and Cross above.
| Women must weep | |