CHRIST'S ENTRANCE INTO JERUSALEM.
He sat upon the "ass's foal" and rode
On to Jerusalem. Beside him walk'd,
Closely and silently, the faithful twelve,
And on before him went a multitude
Shouting Hosannas, and with eager hands
Strewing their garments thickly in his way.
Th' unbroken foal beneath him gently stepp'd,
Tame as its patient dam; and as the song
Of Welcome to the Son of David!" burst
Forth from a thousand children, and the leaves
Of the waved branches touch'd its silken ears,
It turn'd its wild eye for a moment back,
And then, subdued by an invisible hand,
Meekly trode onward with its slender feet.
The dew's last sparkle from the grass had gone
As he rode up Mount Olivet. The woods.
Threw their cool shadows freshly to the west,
And the light foal, with quick and toiling step,
And head bent low, kept its unslacken'd way
Till its soft mane was lifted by the wind
CHRIST'S ENTRANCE INTO JERUSALEM. 53
Sent o'er the mount from Jordan. As he reach'd
The summit's breezy pitch, the Saviour raised
His calm blue eye-there stood Jerusalem!
Eagerly he bent forward, and beneath
His mantle's passive folds, a bolder line
Than the wont slightness of his perfect limbs
Betray'd the swelling fulness of his heart.
There stood Jerusalem! How fair she look'd
The silver sun on all her palaces,
And her fair daughters 'mid the golden spires
Tending their terrace flowers, and Kedron's stream
Lacing the meadows with its silver band,
And wreathing its mist-mantle on the sky
With the morn's exhalations. There she stood
Jerusalem-the city of his love,
Chosen from all the earth; Jerusalem
That knew him not-and had rejected him ;
Jerusalem-for whom he came to die!
The shouts redoubled from a thousand lips
At the fair sight; the children leap'd and sang
Louder Hosannas; the clear air was fill'd
With odour from the trampled olive-leaves-
But Jesus wept." The loved disciple saw
His Master's tears, and closer to his side.
He came with yearning looks, and on his neck
The Saviour leant with heavenly tenderness,
And mourn'd- How oft, Jerusalem! would I
Have gather'd you, as gathereth a hen
Her brood beneath her wings-but ye would not !"
He thought not of the death that he should die— He thought not of the thorns he knew must pierce His forehead-of the buffet on the cheek
The scourge, the mocking homage, the foul scorn!Gethsemane stood out beneath his eye
Clear in the morning sun, and there, he knew,
While they who "could not watch with him one hour"
Were sleeping, he should sweat great drops of blood,
Praying the cup might pass." And Golgotha
Stood bare and desert by the city wall,
And in its midst, to his prophetic eye,
Rose the rough cross, and its keen agonies
Were number'd all—the nails were in his feet-
Th' insulting sponge was pressing on his lips-
The blood and water gushing from his side-
The dizzy faintness swimming in his brain—
And, while his own disciples fled in fear,
A world's death-agonies all mix'd in his!
Ay! he forgot all this. He only saw
Jerusalem, the chosen-the loved-the lost!
He only felt that for her sake his life
Was vainly given, and, in his pitying love,
The sufferings that would clothe the heavens in black Were quite forgotten. Was there ever love,
In earth or heaven, equal unto this?
Ir was a green spot in the wilderness,
Touch'd by the river Jordan. The dark pine
Never had dropp'd its tassels on the moss
Tufting the leaning bank, nor on the grass
Of the broad circle stretching evenly
To the straight larches, had a heavier foot
Than the wild heron's trodden. Softly in
Through a long aisle of willows, dim and cool,
Stole the clear waters with their muffled feet,
And, hushing as they spread into the light,
Circled the edges of the pebbled tank
Slowly, then rippled through the woods away.
Hither had come th' Apostle of the wild,
Winding the river's course.
Of eve, and, with a multitude around,
Who from the cities had come out to hear,
He stood breast-high amid the running stream,
Baptizing as the Spirit gave
as the Spirit gave him power.
His simple raiment was of camel's hair,
A leathern girdle close about his loins,
His beard unshorn, and for his daily meat
The locust and wild honey of the wood;
But like the face of Moses on the mount
Shone his rapt countenance, and in his eye
Burn'd the mild fire of love; and as he spoke
The ear lean'd to him, and persuasion swift
To the chain'd spirit of the listener stole.
Silent upon the green and sloping bank The people sat, and while the leaves were shook With the birds dropping early to their nests, And the gray eve came on, within their hearts They mused if he were Christ. The rippling stream Still turn'd its silver courses from his breast
As he divined their thought. "I but baptize,"
He said, with water; but there cometh One,
The latchet of whose shoes I may not dare
Ev'n to unloose. He will baptize with fire
And with the Holy Ghost." And lo! while yet
The words were on his lips, he raised his eyes,
And on the bank stood Jesus. He had laid
His raiment off, and with his loins alone
Girt with a mantle, and his perfect limbs,
In their angelic slightness, meek and bare,
He waited to go in. But John forbade,
And hurried to his feet and stay'd him there,
And said, "Nay, Master! I have need of thine,
Not thou of mine!" And Jesus, with a smile
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