With cruel agony of blood to atone
For thy too easy life. A heart of stone
Could but dissolve before the piteous sight.
All through the Holy Hour he made his moan,
Beneath the olives, on the sacred height;
Wrongs of the ages saw in vision that dread night!
II.
John xix. 1.
An act, a little word, of God made man
Bears in itself his own immensity;