A reverence with the mystery about us steal!
Crown of the Crucifixion! O that He,
On whose aspiring brow it sat, had felt
And fought the spirits of his Destiny!
Then had a palsied world beheld him melt
In tears for mortals, where he strode in blood,
And shrieked for conquest. Then his loftier path
Had been above the dashing of that flood
That broke about the highway of his wrath,
And Glory, like an angel, beckoned on