| |
| OH, touch not thou that holy Head— | |
| The wife of Pilate cried— | |
| Full is my heart with fear and dread | |
| As though a Friend had died, | |
| Or was about to die, instead | 5 |
| Of some one else beside: | |
| Spare thou that Just One; let Him go | |
| The whispering Spirits tell me so. | |
| |
| Mysterious Dream: I saw a Fire | |
| All boundless in its blaze, | 10 |
| Raging in red omnivorous ire, | |
| And scorching in its rays: | |
| It licked the Heavens with many a spire, | |
| Nor could I bear to gaze: | |
| The clouds together seemed to roll | 15 |
| And wither, like a parchment scroll. | |
| |
| Hosts upon hosts essayed in vain | |
| The ruthless flames to quell: | |
| Each mountain, city, tower and plain | |
| Subsided in the Hell: | 20 |
| Ten thousand sounds of woe and pain | |
| Blended into a yell, | |
| Such as hath struck no mortal ear | |
| But mine—in this last night of fear. | |
| |
| The rocks were rent: the welkin rang; | 25 |
| When lo! as from a Throne, | |
| While Souls in secret sorrow sang, | |
| A Lamb came forth alone: | |
| Its look was Love: It hushed the clang | |
| Of Earth’s tremendous groan; | 30 |
| Then mounting on the awful Pyre, | |
| Pierced Its own Heart, and quenched the Fire. | |
| |
| And as It died, Its closing Eyes | |
| With tears most piteous ran: | |
| Its Face beneath the frowning skies | 35 |
| Waxed wonderfully wan; | |
| Then changed—and in amazing guise | |
| An aspect wore of Man, | |
| A Man Divine, and more than fair, | |
| Too like the mystic Prisoner there. | 40 |
| |
