The Crown Of Thorns

“And unto Adam He said…. cursed is the ground for thy sake. Thorns…. shall bring it forth.”

“And the soldiers platted a crown of thorns, and put it on His head.”

In bitterest sorrow did the ground bring forth

Its fatal seed. Thine eye beheld the birth-

Beheld the travail of accursèd earth;

E’en then, O Lord! in greater love than wrath!

Thou sawest the sin that none could gather out-

The vineyard cover’d with the thorn and briar;

Thou sawest the fair land ready for the fire-

And still Thy pity compass’d it about.

Thou, O most merciful! didst spare the brand;

Thou didst redeem the Paradise of God;

The thorns were rooted from the stubborn sod.

In pain and toil, by Thine own blessèd hand.

How was our path to heaven o’er grown with sin-

Bramble, and thistle, and the poisonous weed!

Though hearts should break, and patient feet should bleed,

And strive and struggle, none could walk therein.

And Thou didst call us when we went astray-

Didst make our high road straight for evermore;

And, for our guidance, passèd on before,

Leaving Thy shining footprints in the way.

Still do the wild thorns hedge us round about;

Still grow the thistles from the ancient stock;

Still trails the bramble on the blasted rock-

But we can dig, and Thou wilt pull them out.

Ay, we can work-oh, help us in the strife!

Labour is sweet, for Thou dost share it now.

And we shall eat, in sweat of furrow’d brow,

Not earthly food, but Thine own Bread of Life.

And there are thorns of suffering left behind-

Sorrow and loss-that weigh our courage down;

But, ah! we know Thy sacramental crown

Was made of sin and sorrow, intertwined.

Give us of Thy sweet patience, Lord, we pray.

We would not spurn them with rebellious kicks,

Nor fret and strive, for Thou canst feel the pricks;

We too would wear them as a crown for aye.

We would put on Thy likeness-we, the least

And most unworthy. Ay, each piercing thorn,

In Thy name patiently and meekly worn,

Shall bear a blossom for the bridal feast.

Look down, O Brother with the yearning eyes!

Behold us kneeling at Thy bitter cross!

Grant us a share in all Thine earthly loss,

That we may share Thy gain in Paradise.

O weary Head! we see Thee drooping now

Beneath that diadem of mortal pain:

We see Thee sprinkled with the scarlet stain;-

Drop down the chrism on our polluted brow!

O sacred Head!-pale, beautiful, benign-

On our heads be Thy precious blood, we cry!

Lo, the destroying angel, passing by,

Shall spare to smite us-reverencing the sign.

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Poems in English 

• Prisoner by Rabindranath Tagore by Rabindranath Tagore
• Playthings by Rabindranath Tagore by Rabindranath Tagore
• Patience by Rabindranath Tagore by Rabindranath Tagore
• Passing Breeze by Rabindranath Tagore by Rabindranath Tagore
• Parting Words by Rabindranath Tagore by Rabindranath Tagore
• Paper Boats by Rabindranath Tagore by Rabindranath Tagore
• Only Thee by Rabindranath Tagore by Rabindranath Tagore
• On the Seashore by Rabindranath Tagore by Rabindranath Tagore
• Old And New by Rabindranath Tagore by Rabindranath Tagore
• Ocean of Forms by Rabindranath Tagore by Rabindranath Tagore
• O Fool by Rabindranath Tagore by Rabindranath Tagore
• My Song by Rabindranath Tagore by Rabindranath Tagore
• My Friend by Rabindranath Tagore by Rabindranath Tagore
• Moment’s Indulgence by Rabindranath Tagore by Rabindranath Tagore
• Maya by Rabindranath Tagore by Rabindranath Tagore
• Lover’s Gifts XXXIX: There Is a Looker-On by Rabindranath Tagore by Rabindranath Tagore
• Lover’s Gifts XXVIII: I Dreamt by Rabindranath Tagore by Rabindranath Tagore
• Lover’s Gifts XXII: I Shall Gladly Suffer by Rabindranath Tagore by Rabindranath Tagore
• Lover’s Gifts XVIII: Your Days by Rabindranath Tagore by Rabindranath Tagore
• Lover’s Gifts XVI: She Dwelt Here by the Pool by Rabindranath Tagore by Rabindranath Tagore

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Yahoo– yes, it’s still around, amazingly, miraculously, incredibly, but now it seems to be powered by Bing.

 

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