"HE OPENED NOT HIS MOUTH."
EACH counts his lot most grievous; his distress
Sorer than other's; each is prone to harp
Upon his many trials (though he carp
At his poor neighbor's fretting none the less);
For all his wrongs there seemeth small redress;
No other's ills were ever quite so sharp;
Misfortunes all his plans do thwart and warp;
No loss his loss can match; no sorrows press
Like his! Ah! eighteen hundred years ago
The pangs and penalties of all mankind
Through all the groaning centuries behind
And all the wrestling centuries to come
One Man endured, bound thrice ten years with woe,
Yet from the Manger to the Cross was dumb!
Sorer than other's; each is prone to harp
Upon his many trials (though he carp
At his poor neighbor's fretting none the less);
For all his wrongs there seemeth small redress;
No other's ills were ever quite so sharp;
Misfortunes all his plans do thwart and warp;
No loss his loss can match; no sorrows press
Like his! Ah! eighteen hundred years ago
The pangs and penalties of all mankind
Through all the groaning centuries behind
And all the wrestling centuries to come
One Man endured, bound thrice ten years with woe,
Yet from the Manger to the Cross was dumb!