“Saviour of All!” he cried, “Thou who wast crucified For sinful man! We worship at thy feet, For thou hast made complete Salvation’s plan. Come to thy people, Lord, once more, And let the nations hear again The song the angels sung of yore, Of ‘peace on earth, good will to men.’” As if his prayer was heard, A sudden trembling stirred The walls around. The doors, wide open flung, On ponderous hinges swung, With solemn sound. And then, straight up the foot-worn aisle, A strange procession made its way, In garments coarse, of simplest style, A strange, incongruous array. The first, most rudely clad, A leathern girdle had About him bound. The next, in humblest guise, Raised not his mournful eyes From off the ground. And next to these the dusky browed, And others, flushed with sin and shame, And women, with their faces bowed In deep contrition, slowly came. No voice was heard, or sound, From the vast concourse round, Outspreading wide. But onward still they passed, Until they gained at last The altar side. Then said the lowly one, “O ye! Who celebrate a Saviour’s birth, Should he return again, would he Find faith among the sons of earth?” Quick, with an angry frown, The haughty priest looked down Upon the crowd. “Who are ye, that ye dare Invade this house of prayer?” He cried aloud. “This temple, sacred to the Lord, Not thus shall be profaned by you: Your deeds with his do not accord-- Begone! Begone, ye vagrant crew!” The lowly one replied, “These, standing by my side, Came at my call; Nor need they have one fear, With me to enter here-- God loves them all. Thou hypocrite! thou dost reject _Me_, through thy most _unchristian creed_, And making truth of none effect, Thou dost dishonor me indeed.” Around the stranger’s head A radiant halo spread Its glories bright; His meek and tender face Beamed with transcendent grace, And heavenly light. There, mighty in his power for good, So gentle and divinely sweet, The “Christus Consolator” stood, With weeping sinners at his feet. “We must go hence,” he said, “To find the living bread. Come, follow me! My Father’s house above Is full of light and love, And all is free.” High in the old cathedral tower, The brazen bell majestic swung, As if some strange, mysterious power To sudden speech had moved its tongue.