Sacred Poems By the Late Right Hon. Sir Robert Grant |
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 | Sacred Poems |  |
12
IV.
Hosanna in the highest.
1
From Olivet's sequester'd seatsWhat sounds of transport spread?
What concourse moves thro' Salem's streets,
To Sion's holy head?
Behold him there in lowliest guise,
The Saviour of mankind!
Triumphal shouts before him rise,
And shouts reply behind:
And, “Strike,” they cry, “your loudest string:
He comes—Hosanna to our King!”
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2
Nor these alone, that present train,Their present King ador'd;
An earlier and a later strain
Extol the self-same Lord.
Obedient to his Father's will,
He came—he lived, he died;
And gratulating voices still
Before and after cried,
“All hail the Prince of David's line!
Hosanna to the man divine!”
3
He came to earth: from eldest years,A long and bright array
Of prophet bards and patriarch seers
Proclaim'd the glorious day:
The light of heaven in every breast,
Its fire on every lip,
In tuneful chorus on they prest,
A goodly fellowship:
And still their pealing anthem ran,
“Hosanna to the Son of Man!”
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4
He came to earth, thro' life he pastA man of griefs; and lo,
A noble army following fast
His track of pain and wo:
All deck'd with palms, and strangely bright,
That suffering host appears;
And stainless are their robes of white,
Tho' steep'd in blood and tears;
And sweet their martyr-anthem flows,
“Hosanna to the man of woes!”
5
From ages past descends the layTo ages yet to be,
Till far its echoes roll away
Into eternity.
But oh! while saints and angels high
Thy final triumph share,
Amidst thy followers, Lord, shall I,
Tho' last and meanest there,
Receive a place, and feebly raise
A faint hosanna to thy praise?
| Sacred Poems | |