164

THE HIGHWAY TO MOUNT CALUARIE.

To Pilat's bold demands

He yeelded no replie;

Although the iudge importuned much,

Yet silence did denie.

Vnto his manie words

No answer Christ would make;
Yet to those women did He speake
For teares' and weepings' sake.

Thinke on their force by teares—
. Teares that obtained love;

Where words too weak could not persuade,
How teares had power to moue.

Then looke towards Jesus' load,
More than he could indure,
And how for helpe to beare the same,
A hireling they procure.

Joine thou vnto the Crosse;
Beare it of loue's desire;
Doe not as Cyrenæus did,
That took it vp for hire.

It is a gratefull deede,

If willing vnderta'ne;
But if compulsion set aworke,
The labour's done in vaine.

THE HIGHWAY TO MOUNT CALUARIE.

The voluntarie death

That Christ did die for thee,

Gives life to none but such as ioy
Crosse-bearing friends to be.

Vp to Mount Caluarie,

If thou desire to goe,

Then take thy Crosse and follow Christ,
Thou canst not miss it so.

When there thou art arriued,
His glorious wounds to see,
Say but as faithful as the thiefe:
"O Lord remember me!"

Assure thyselfe to haue

A gift all gifts excelling,

Once sold by sinne, once bought by Christ,

For saints' eternall dwelling.

By Adam, Paradise

Was sinne's polluted shade;

By Christ, the dunghill Golgotha,
A Paradise was made.

165

Samuel Rowlands.

Via Dolorosa.

I SEE my Lord-the poor, the weak, the lowly,
Along the mournful way in sadness tread;
The thorns are on His brow, and He,-the Holy,
Bearing his cross-to Calvary is led.

Silent He moveth on, all uncomplaining,
Though wearily His grief and burden press;
And foes-nor shame nor pity now restraining—
With scoff and jeering mock his deep distress.

"Tis hell's dark hour; yet calm himself resigning,
Even as a lamb that goeth to be slain;
The wine-press lone he treadeth unrepining,
And falling blood-drops all his raiment stain.

In mortal weakness 'neath his burden sinking,
The Son of God accepts a mortal's aid!
Then passes on to Golgotha unshrinking,

Where love's divinest sacrifice is made.

Dear Lord! what though my path be set with sorrow,.
And oft beneath some heavy cross I groan ?

My soul, weighed down, shall strength and courage borrow
At thoughts of sharper griefs which thou hast known.

VIA DOLOROSA.

And I, in tears, will yet look up with gladness;

And hope when troubles most my hope would drown; The mournful way which thou didst tread with sadness, Was but thy way to glory and Thy Crown.

Ray Palmer.

167

"Weep not for me."

And there followed him a great company of people, and of women, who also bewailed and lamented him. But Jesus, turning unto them, said, “Daughters of Jerusalem, weep not for me, but weep for yourselves, and your children.”—ST. LUKE Xxiii. 27, 28.

JERUSALEM's daughters! for me do not weep!
Your eyes' bitter waters for other days keep,
For days of sad sighing, deep wailing, and moan;
For the dead and the dying; for cities o'erthrown.

When you pray that the mountains may fall on your head
Then from those misty fountains salt tears may be shed;
But, Jerusalem's daughters, for me do not weep;

Your eyes' bitter waters for other days keep.

When mothers, soul-mourning, curse the day when was pressed

The child of long yearning most close to the breast;
When those eyes they are blessing which ne'er saw a son,
And those arms, which caressing of daughters had none;
When the maid, thickly sobbing, her own love shall mourn,
And the father's heart, throbbing, breaks o'er his first-born;
Then Jerusalem's daughters, for me do not weep;

Your eyes' bitter waters for other days keep.