In the Synagogue.
THEN Jesus came to Nazareth,
His childhood's quiet home;
And, as to teach on Sabbath days
His custom had become,
He, in the synagogue, stood up,
To read the holy Book;
And the writings of Isaias,
When handed Him, He took;
And opened it, and found the place
Wherein the prophet spake
Of Israel's Messiah,
Who should their bondage break.
He read the text, distinct and clear,
Then closed the Book again,
And took His seat, while on Him gazed
The eyes of all the men.
And He began to say to them:
"This day, in all your ears,
This holy Scripture is fulfilled,
After so many years."
And they, in awe and wonder, heard
His words of grace and truth,
And said: "Is not this Joseph's son,
Whom we have known from youth?"
But soon their kind and gentle mood
Began to disappear,
Because He told them homely truths
They did not wish to hear.
At last, the fickle people rose
In wild and wicked wrath,
Seized Him, and roughly led Him up
The sloping, hillside path;
That, in their raging anger, they
Might cast Him headlong down
The precipice, one side the hill,
On which was built their town.
But He passed through their very midst,
An unfelt, spirit shape;
And left them, standing wonder-struck
At this most strange escape.
And so He went from Nazareth;
His home was there no more;
But in Capernaum He dwelt,
And showed His grace and power.