THE DAY AFTER THE CRUCIFIXION.34

P

AST is the dread and solemn day

On which that deed of deeds was done,
And slowly with unwilling ray

Returns the sad indignant sun.

On that dark day of sorrow he
Withdrew his radiance from the sky,
As if he could not bear to see

The Lord that gave him being die.

With cold averted gaze the Jews
Turned from the cheering prophecies,
For blinded hatred did not choose
The God in man to recognise.

The moon, accustomed to put forth
Her perfect radiance on that night,
'Neath sheltering clouds retired in wrath
And would not lend her aiding light.

'Twas 35 no eclipse that formed that gloom :--

Grim midnight on the midday sky

Could tell them 'twas no mortal whom

They dared to mock and crucify.

For 'mid the fury-blinded crowd

Truth burst from the centurion :

His radiant words cleft Doubt's dark cloud; Truly This man is God's own Son.'

What mean those ancient trees now prone,
Clothed in their first fresh vernal green ?
What mean those piles of shivered stone
E'er while in stately structure seen?

The earth that shuddered at His doom
In wrath upheaved her mighty breast;
Full many tenants of the tomb

Were startled from their dreamless rest.

While Nature, with her laws reversed,
Protested in her loudest tone
Against the tragedy accurs'd,

That fiends would scarcely dare to own!

Through the first child-like buds of spring

Autumnal dirges seem to sound ;

The flitting birds no longer sing,

And mope as though by strange spell bound.

Never did dim November's shade

Or grim December's darkest night,
Albeit in thickest robes arrayed,
So hide the landscape from the sight.

We do not know whence came that light
By which spectators saw Him die;

All gazers viewed the awful sight,

Both those afar and standing nigh.

All, all is o'er, the double strain,
The pains of body, mental night;
Revenge has triumphed and has slain
The unresisting Prince of Light.

The tomb is closed, for not as yet
The Lord has oped Death's pond'rous door;
The Sun of Righteousness has set,

As though 'twere lost for evermore.

Yet from that strange abnormal night,
Spreading o'er all its sombre hues,
Shall rise the panoramic light

The gladden'd earth no more shall lose.

The Lord's forgiveness rests on those Who sinned, not knowing what they did; But on their chiefs wait awful woes,

From whom such knowledge was not hid.

Dispersed is now that fickle throng.
That, urged by Passion's fitful sway,

Now hailed their king with shout and song,

6

And then, Away to death, Away.'

ST. PETER.

Where is he now, whose granite heart
Shook like a reed at Danger's blast?
Pierced by Affliction's keenest dart
He mourns the sad and humbling past.

That he th' Invincible, the Rock,
Boasting his spirit knew no fear,
Could not endure the feeblest shock,
The homely servant's paltry sneer.

Scenes of past days before him rise,
Hours of sweet fellowship now flown,
That countenance so pure and wise;
That hand which oft had pressed his own;

The converse by the sea or lake,
The parables, the lessons taught,

The pains his Master deigned to take
To meet his servant's humblest thought.

And then, the last glance of those eyes
Now penetrates his heart and brain;
Where mingled love, reproof, surprise,
Were blent in one deep look of pain.

Once only did man wield the power,
By fervent prayer's prevailing strain,
To raise from death the buried hour,
And bid it once more live again.

His piteous sorrows do not bring
An instant back; in whose short flight
To prove his fealty to his King,
Reverse the verdict of last night.