|
|
|
Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE PASSION, by HENRY VAUGHAN Poet Analysis Poet's Biography
First Line: O my chief good
Last Line: To weep, to sing, thy death, my life.
Alternate Author Name(s): Silurist
First Line: O my chief good
Last Line: To weep, to sing, thy death, my life.
Alternate Author Name(s): Silurist
O my chief good!
My dear, dear God!
When thy blest blood
Did issue forth forced by the rod,
What pain didst thou
Feel in each blow!
How didst thou weep,
And thyself steep
In thy own precious, saving tears!
What cruel smart
Did tear thy heart!
How didst thou groan it
In the spirit,
O thou, whom my soul loves and fears!
2
Most blessed Vine!
Whose juice so good
I feel as wine,
But thy fair branches felt as blood,
How wert thou pressed
To be my feast!
In what deep anguish
Didst thou languish,
What springs of sweat and blood did drown thee!
How in one path
Did the full wrath
Of thy great Father
Crowd and gather,
Doubling thy griefs, when none would own thee!
3
How did the weight
Of all our sins,
And death unite
To wrench and rack thy blessed limbs!
How pale and bloody
Looked thy body!
How bruised and broke
With every stroke!
How meek and patient was thy spirit!
How didst thou cry,
And groan on high
Father forgive,
And let them live,
I die to make my foes inherit!
4
O blessed Lamb!
That took'st my sin,
That took'st my shame
How shall thy dust thy praises sing!
I would I were
One hearty tear!
One constant spring!
Then would I bring
Thee two small mites, and be at strife
Which should most vie,
My heart, or eye,
Teaching my years
In smiles and tears
To weep, to sing, thy Death, my Life.