I know some lowly, cringing clods That saw Lord Jesus die, That watched His torn and bloody form Nailed high against the sky. They shared His palling cup of shame; They sensed His tortured breath; They sat in rigid fear around A banquet board of death. Oh, some there drank the warm, red blood, And some the tears of woe, And some that agonizing sweat— They saw Christ Jesus go. And some received the vinegar; And some received the gall; They supped a dear communion that Immortalized them all. They quaffed a costly beverage; They took a priceless bread; They writhed in fierce satiety Of saturating red. So still, these lowly, cringing clods That drank that dark day through, That horror-stricken, watched great Christ Hung high against the blue. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SMILING MOUTH by CHARLES D'ORLEANS THE SPIDER AND THE FLY by MARY HOWITT NEW ENGLAND'S DEAD! by ISAAC MCLELLAN JR. LOVE NOT by CAROLINE ELIZABETH SARAH SHERIDAN NORTON TRACT by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS TO A DOG by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD THE GOLDEN ODES OF PRE-ISLAMIC ARABIA: EL HARITH by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |