And bade his own disciples go.
The strange event to see.
They said, Art thou the one of whom
'Twas written long before?
Is there another still to come,
Who will all things restore?
This is enough, without a name—
Go, tell him what is done;
Behold the feeble, weak and lame,
With strength rise up and run.
This is enough—the blind now see,
The dumb Hosannas sing;
Devils far from his presence flee,
As shades from morning's wing.
See the distress'd, all bathed in tears,
Prostrate before him fall;
Immanuel speaks, and Lazarus hears—
The dead obeys his call.
This is enough—the fig-tree dies,
And withers at his frown;
Nature her God must recognise,
And drop her flowery crown.
At his command the fish increase,
And loaves of barley swell—
Ye hungry eat, and hold your peace,
And find a remnant still.
