CHRIST, dost thou live indeed? or are thy bones Still straightened in their rock-hewn sepulchre? And was thy Rising only dreamed by Her Whose love of thee for all her sin atones? For here the air is horrid with men's groans, The priests who call upon thy name are slain, Dost thou not hear the bitter wail of pain From those whose children lie upon the stones? Come down, O Son of God! incestuous gloom Curtains the land, and through the starless night Over thy Cross the Crescent moon I see! If thou in very truth didst burst the tomb Come down, O Son of Man! and show thy might, Lest Mahomet be crowned instead of Thee! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONNET: TO FANNY by JOHN KEATS THE DIRGE [FOR FIDELE], FR. CYMBELINE by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE PARLIAMENT OF WOMEN: PRAXAGORA REHEARSES by ARISTOPHANES THE CLOUDS: SONG [OR CHORUS] OF THE CLOUDS by ARISTOPHANES SAY NO MORE OF ME by ANNA EMILIA BAGSTAD THREE THROWS AND ONE by JANE BARLOW |