His death shall bring life; his sorrows, forgiveness.
Though his flesh know corruption, his body decay,
Yet his soul, winging heavenward,
Beareth all our sins Godward,
The glorious messenger, he, of man’s new day!
Ah, were I but that herald of deliverance!
My spirit is on fire! Lo, I pray:
Crucify me, oh, crucify me!
[With wild cries they seize him, and begin to carry him away, buffeting him as they go]
Voices