288 REDEMPTION.
Yet naught the callous multitude appeased,
Soften'd their hearts, nor suaged their barbarous rage ;
Louder their clamor sounds " Away with him !
Release Barabbas Jesus crucify ;
We have no king but Caesar crucify ;
His blood be on our own and children's heads."
Around his shoulders now the inurd'rous band,
The scarlet robe in scornful rnock'ry throw,
Plat him a crown of thorns, and pierce his brow,
For sceptre yield a reed, then bow the knee,
And him deriding, hail King of the Jews.
At length the Woeful wends his weary way t
Whither his persecutors fierce conduct,
Whilst hoarse, rough murmurs rend the brumal air,
And urge the madden'd furies to their task.
Pond'rous the wood, his mangled shoulders bear;
Grievous his toil, whilst weak from dripping gore,
His stagg'ring footsteps lead him trembling on,
Till fainting soon his lanquid limbs assails,
And he, the Pitiful, unpitied falls ;
Falls in the way made slippery with his blood,
But still no respite finds from cruel blows.
Behold the Man ! comeliest of Adam's sons,
The tender plant, sprung from a thirsty ground,
Wounded and bruised for sins, sins not his own j
Despised and abject, level'd in the dust,
His comeliness defaced, his beauty gone.
This, vi'lent hands lays on his sightless form,
That, binds with cords, another him blasphemes,
These vie with taunts, and those with ceaseless blows,
Though innocent declared, as guilty scourged.
See him spit on, disrobed, exposed to shame,
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