This crosstree here Doth Jesus bear, Who sweet'ned first, The death accurs'd. HERE all things ready are, make haste, make haste away ; For long this work will be, and very short this day. Why then, go on to act : here's wonders to be done Before the last least sand of Thy ninth hour be run ; Or ere dark clouds do dull or dead the mid-day's sun. Act when Thou wilt, Blood will be spilt ; Pure balm, that shall Bring health to all. Why then, begin To pour first in Some drops of wine, Instead of brine, To search the wound So long unsound : And, when that's done, Let oil next run To cure the sore Sin made before. And O ! dear Christ, E'en as Thou di'st, Look down, and see Us weep for Thee. And tho', love knows, Thy dreadful woes We cannot ease, Yet do Thou please, Who mercy art, T' accept each heart That gladly would Help if it could. Meanwhile let me, Beneath this tree, This honour have, To make my grave. This may not show properly in your browser. Click here to view an image file of the same. Source: Herrick, Robert. Works of Robert Herrick. vol II. Alfred Pollard, ed. London, Lawrence & Bullen, 1891. 253.
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