Classic Poem

XXI.

Patient, the cruel scourge he bore:
The innocent, the kind!
Then to the rabble's lawless power
And rudest taunts consign'd.

XXII.

With thorns they crown that awful brow,
Whose srown can shake the globe;
And on their king in scorn bestow
The reed and purple robe.

XXIII.

Ah! see the fatal cross appears,
Heart-wounding, dreadful scene!
His sacred flesh rude iron tears,
With agonizing pain.

XXIV.

Expos'd with thieves, to publick view —
Could nature bear the sight?
The blushing sun his beams withdrew,
And wrapt the globe in night!

XXV.

Then, Oh! what loads of wrath unknown.
The glorious sufferer felt;
For crimes unnumber'd to atone,
To expiate mortal guilt?

XXVI.

The Father's blissful smile withdrawn,
In that tremendous hour;
Yet still the God sustain'd the man
With his almighty power.

XXVII.

" 'Tis finish'd, " now aloud he cries,
" No more the law requires; "
And now, amazing sacrifice!)
The Lord of life expires.

XXVIII.

Earth's firm foundation felt the shock,
With universal dread;
Trembled the mountain, rent the rock,
And wak'd the sleeping dead!

XXIX.

Now breathless in the silent tomb,
His sacred body lies;
Thither his lov'd disciples come,
With sorrow-streaming eyes.

XXX.

But see, the promis'd morn appear!
Their joy revives again;
The Saviour lives; adieu to fear,
To every anxious pain.