CŒNAM CUM DISCIPULIS.
101
Priests and Scribes upon His Head
Foul reproaches heaping:
Who might see the Spotless Lamb,
And refrain from weeping?
Pilate strives to free the Lord
From the bands that tie Him;
But the voices of the Jews
More and more defy him;
And the tumult waxes still
Loud and louder nigh him:
And the people's fiercer cry
Thunders,—"Crucify Him!"
With the soldiers, straitly bound,
Forth the Saviour fareth:
Over all His holy Form
Bleeding Wounds He beareth;
He a Crown of woven thorns,
King of Glory, weareth:
And each one, with bended knee,
Fresher taunts prepareth.
They Thy mild and tender Flesh,
O Redeemer, baring,
To the column bind Thee fast
