Cowper.
I think that look of Christ might seem to say;—
‘Thou Peter, art thou then a common stone,
Which I at last must break my head upon,
For all God’s charge to His high angels, may
Guard my foot better? Did I yesterday
Wash thy feet, my beloved, that they should run
Quick to deny me ’neath the morning sun,—
And do thy kisses, like the rest, betray?’
The cock crows coldly.—‘Go, and manifest