THE CRUCIFIXION.
OLD FRENCH SONNET.
While Jesus suffered for the human race
Upon the tree, death came and found him there.
Transfixed with shame, at first he did not dare
To look upon his sovereign’s awful face.
But Jesus, full of majesty and grace,
Meekly bowed down his head, august and fair,
Veiling the glory that it used to wear,
And waves of darkness fell upon the place.
Then shuddering Death his shameful task fulfilled;
Earth to her centre rocked as though the day
Of doom were come; the veil was rent away—
All Nature moaned and quivered, horror-filled.
The very stones were softened, thou alone,
Vile scoffing sinner, took a heart of stone.