Ah! ’tis bitter gall He drinketh, When His heart in anguish fails;— From the thorns His life-blood trickles, From the spear wound and the nails; But that crimson stream for cleansing, O’er creation wide prevails. III Faithful Cross! in all the woodland, Standeth not a nobler tree; In thy leaf, and flower, and fruitage, None can e’er thy equal be; Sweet the wood, and sweet the iron, Sweet the load that hung on thee. IV Noble tree! unbend thy branches, Let thy stubborn fibres bend, Cast thy native rigour from thee, Be a gentle, loving friend; Bear Him in thine arms, and softly, Christ, the King eternal, tend. V Only thou could’st bear the burden Of the ransom of our race; Only thou could’st be a refuge, Like the ark, a hiding-place, By the sacred blood anointed, Of the Covenant of Grace. VI Blessing, blessing everlasting, To the glorious Trinity; To the Father, Son, and Spirit, Equal glory let there be; Universal praise be given, To the Blessed One in Three. CRUX AVE BENEDICTA This little poem, which he pronounces “perfect in its kind,” is taken by Trench from Daniel’s _Thesaurus_, without any note of author or of date. I Hail, thou Blessed Cross, all hail! Death no longer can prevail. On those arms extended high, Did my King and Saviour die. II Queen of all the trees that grow, Medicine when health is low, Solace to the cumbered heart, Comfort thou when sorrows smart. III O! most sacred wood, the sign That eternal life is mine; On the fruit thy branches give, Feeds the human heart to live. IV When, around the Judgment-seat, Friends of thine and foes shall meet, Be my prayer, O Christ, to Thee, And in love remember me. HORÆ DE PASSIONE D. N. JESU CHRISTI From a fourteenth-century MS., where it bears the title, “Hours of the Passion of our Lord Jesus Christ, compiled from the Prophets and the New Testament by the Blessed Pope Urban” _(_b._ 1302, _d._ 1370)._ (AD PRIMAM) (_Tu qui velatus facie_) I Veiled was the glory of Thy face, O Jesus, Lord of heavenly grace, When mocking knees were bent in scorn, And bitter stripes were meekly borne. II To Thee the prayer of faith we send, In Thee we hope: O Lord, attend, And in Thy mercy lead the way To where Thy glory shines as day. III