THE SACRIFICE.

O all ye, who pass by, whose eyes and mind
To worldly things are sharp, but to me blind;
To me, who took eyes that I might you find :
Was ever grief like mine?

The Princes of my people make a head
Against their Maker: they do wish me dead,
Who cannot wish, except I give them bread:

Was ever grief like mine?

Without me each one, who doth now me brave,
Had to this day been an Egyptian slave.
They use that power against me, which I gave :

Was ever grief like mine?

Mine own Apostle, who the bag did bear,
Though he had all I had, did not forbear
To sell me also, and to put me there :

Was ever grief like mine?

For thirty pence he did my death devise,
Who at three hundred did the ointment prize,

Not half so sweet as my sweet sacrifice :

Was ever grief like mine?

Therefore my soul melts, and my heart's dear treasure Drops blood (the only beads) my words to measure :

O let this cup pass, if it be thy pleasure :

Was ever grief like mine?

These drops being temper'd with a sinner's tears,
A balsam are for both the Hemispheres,
Curing all wounds, but mine; all, but my fears.

Was ever grief like mine?

Yet my Disciples sleep: I cannot gain

One hour of watching; but their drowsy brain
Comforts not me, and doth my doctrine stain :

Arise, arise, they come!

Was ever grief like mine?

Look how they run! Alas! what haste they make to be undone ! How with their lanterns do they seek the sun! Was ever grief like mine?

With clubs and staves they seek me, as a thief,
Who am the way of truth, the true relief,
Most true to those who are my greatest grief:
Was ever grief like mine?

Judas, dost thou betray me with a kiss?
Canst thou find hell about my lips? and miss
Of life, just at the gates of life and bliss?

Was ever grief like mine?

See, they lay hold on me, not with the hands
Of faith, but fury; yet at their commands
I suffer binding, who have loosed their bands:
Was ever grief like mine?

All my Disciples fly; fear puts a bar

Betwixt my friends and me. They leave the star,

That brought the wise men of the East from far :

Was ever grief like mine?

Then from one

ruler to another bound

They lead me
What I taught

urging, that it was not sound

Comments would the text confound.
Was ever grief like mine?

The Priests and Rulers all false witness seek
'Gainst him, who seeks not life, but is the meek

And ready Paschal Lamb of this great week:

Was ever grief like mine?

Then they accuse me of great blasphemy,
That I did thrust into the Deity,

Who never thought that any robbery :

Was ever grief like mine?

Some said, that I the Temple to the floor

In three days razed, and raised as before.

Why, he that built the world can do much more:

Was ever grief like mine?

Then they condemn me all with that same breath,
Which I do give them daily, unto death.
Thus Adam my first breathing rendereth:

Was ever grief like mine?

They bind, and lead me unto Herod he
Sends me to Pilate. This makes them agree;
But yet their friendship is my enmity.

Was ever grief like mine?

Herod and all his bands do set me light,
Who teach all hands to war, fingers to fight,
And only am the Lord of hosts and might.

Was ever grief like mine?

Herod in judgment sits, while I do stand;
Examines me with a censorious hand:
I him obey, who all things else command :

Was ever grief like mine?

The Jews accuse me with despitefulness;
And vying malice with my gentleness,
Pick quarrels with their only happiness:

Was ever grief like mine?

I answer nothing, but with patience prove
If stony hearts will melt with gentle love.
But who does hawk at eagles with a dove?

Was ever grief like mine?

My silence rather doth augment their cry;
My dove doth back into my bosom fly,
Because the raging waters still are high:

Was ever grief like mine?

Hark how they cry aloud still, Crucify:
It is not fit he live a day, they cry,
Who cannot live less than eternally :

Was ever grief like mine?

Pilate a stranger holdeth off; but they,
Mine own dear people, cry, Away, away,

With noises confused frighting the day:

Was ever grief like mine?

Yet still they shout, and cry, and stop their ears,
Putting my life among their sins and fears,
And therefore with my blood on them and theirs:
Was ever grief like mine?

See how spite cankers things. These words aright
Used, and wish'd, are the whole world's light:
But honey is their gall, brightness their night :

Was ever grief like mine?

They choose a murderer, and all agree
In him to do themselves a courtesy ;

For it was their own cause who killed me:

Was ever grief like mine?

And a seditious murderer he was:

But I the Prince of Peace; peace that doth pass All understanding, more than heaven doth glass:

Was ever grief like mine?

Why, Cæsar is their only King, not I:

He clave the stony rock, when they were dry;
But surely not their hearts, as I well try:

Was ever grief like mine?

Ah, how they scourge me! yet my tenderness
Doubles each lash and yet their bitterness
Winds up my grief to a mysteriousness :

Was ever grief like mine?

They buffet me, and box me as they list,
Who grasp the earth and heaven with my fist,
And never yet, whom I would punish, miss'd :

Was ever grief like mine?

Behold, they spit on me in scornful wise;

Who with my spittle gave the blind man eyes,

Leaving his blindness to mine enemies :

Was ever grief like mine?