Ah! how they scourge me! yet my tenderness Doubles each lafh: and yet their bitterness Winds up my grief to a mysteriousness:

Was ever grief, &c.

They buffet me, and box me as they lift,
Who grafp earth and heaven with my fift,
And never yet, whom I would punish, mifs'd.
Was ever grief, &c.

Behold they spit on me in fcornful wife,
Who by my spittle gave the blind man eyes;
Leaving his blindness to mine enemies :

Was ever grief, &c.

My face they cover, though it be divine;
As Mofes' face was vailed, fo is mine,
Left on their double-dark fouls either fhine:
Was ever grief, &c.

Servants and abjects flout me; they are witty
Now propbefy who strikes thee, is their ditty;
So they in me deny themselves all pity:

Was ever grief, &c.

And now I am deliver'd unto death,

Which each one calls for fo with utmost breath, That he before me well nigh fuffereth :

Was ever grief, &c.

Weep not, dear friends, fince I for both have wept,
When all my tears were blood, the while you flept:
Your tears for your own fortunes fhould be kept:
Was ever grief, &c.

The foldiers lead me to the common hall;
There they deride me, they abuse me all:
Yet for twelve heav'nly legions I could call:
Was ever grief, &c.

Then

Then with a scarlet robe they mẹ array;
Which fhews my blood to be the only way,
And cordial left to repair man's decay:

Was ever grief, &c.

Then on my
For these are all the grapes Sion doth bear,
Though I my vine planted and watered there:
Was ever grief, &c.

head a crown of thorns I wear.

So fits the earth's great curfe in Adam's fall
Upon my head: fo I remove it all

From th'earth unto my brows, and bear the thrall:
Was ever grief, &c.

Then with the reed they gave to me before, They strike my head, the rock from whence all

ftore

Of heav'nly bleffings iffue evermore:

Was ever grief, &c.

They bow their knees to me, and cry, Hail king,
Whatever fcoffs or fcornfulness can bring,
I am the floor, the fink, where they it fling:
Was ever grief, &c.

Yet fince man's fceptres are as frail as reeds,
And thorny all their crowns, bloody their weeds,
I who am truth, turn into truth their deeds:

Was ever grief, &c.

The foldiers alfo fpit upon that face,
Which angels did defire to have the grace,
And prophets once to fee, but found no place :

Was ever grief, &c.

Thus trimmed forth they bring me to the rout, Who Crucify him, cry with one strong shout. God holds his peace at man, and man cries out: Was ever grief, &c.

They

They lead me in once more, and putting then Mine own clothes on, they lead me out again, Whom devils fly, thus is he tofs'd of men:

Was ever grief, &c.

And now weary of sport, glad to ingrofs
All fpite in one, counting my life their lofs,
They carry me to my moft bitter cross :

Was ever grief, &c.

My cross I bear myself, until I faint;
Then Simon bears it for me by constraint,
The decreed burden of each mortal faint:

Was ever grief, &c.

O all ye who pass by, behold and fee:

Man ftole the fruit, but I must climb the tree; The tree of life to all, but only me:

Was ever grief, &c.

Lo, here I hang, charg'd with a world of fin, The greater world o' th' two: for that came in By words, but this by forrow I must win :

Was ever grief, &c.

Such forrow, as if finful man could feel,
Or feel his part, he would not cease to kneel,
Till all were melted, though he were all steel:
Was ever grief, &c.

But, O my God, my God! why leav'st thou me,
The fon, in whom thou doft delight to be?
My God, my God

Never was grief, &c.

Shame tears my foul, my body many a wound; Sharp nails pierce this, but sharper that confound; Reproaches, which are free, while I am bound:

Was ever grief, &c.

Now

Now heal thyself, physician; now come down. Alas! I did fo, when I left my crown

And fathers fmile for you, to feel his frown :
Was ever grief, &c.

In healing not myself, there doth confift
All that falvation, which ye now refift;
Your fafety in my fickness doth subsist:

Was ever grief, &c.

Betwixt two thieves I spend my utmost breath,
As he that for fome robbery fuffereth.
Alas! what have I ftolen from you? death:

Was ever grief, &c.

A king my title is, prefixt on high;
Yet by my fubjects am condemn'd to die
A fervile death in fervile company :

Was ever grief, &c.

They gave me vinegar mingled with gall,
But more with malice: yet, when they did call,
With manna, angels food, I fed them all :
Was ever grief, &c.

They part my garments, and by lot dispose
My coat, the type of love, which once cur'd thofe
Who fought for help, never malicious foes:

Was ever grief, &c.

Nay, after death their spite shall further

go:

For they will pierce my fide, I full well know; That as fin came, fo facraments might flow:

Was ever grief, &c.

But now I die; now all is finished:

My woe, man's weal: and now I bow my head:

Only let others fay, when I am dead,

Never was grief like mine?

FINI S..