THE CRUCIFIED OF GALILEE.

Methought I stood, at close of day,

Where soft the balmy breezes play,

And bright beneath the Eastern skies

The sacred hills of Canaan rise,

And saw him on the shameful tree,—

The Crucified of Galilee!

I heard the mocking throng deride

The anguish of the Crucified;

I saw the brilliant sun grow dim;

I heard creation shriek for him;

I saw him die, and die for me,—

The Crucified of Galilee!

And then I saw the veil upraised

From the eternal world, and gazed

Upon the scene in deep surprise;

One form alone could fix my eyes;

I knew him, yes, indeed‘ twas he,—

The Crucified of Galilee!

And though upon his lovely brow

A beam of glory rested now;

Though angels praised his holy name;

Yet still I knew he was the same

Who hung upon the shameful tree,—

The Crucified of Galilee!

I knew him by his tender air;

I knew him by the fervent prayer

He breathed for those for whom he died;

I knew him by his wounded side;

By these I knew that it was he,—

The Crucified of Galilee!

I knew him by the loving smile

With which he welcomed sinners vile;

I knew him, for he took a share

In all his children's griefs and care;

I knew him by his love for me,—

The Crucified of Galilee!

The vision faded from afar;

But still‘ t is memory's guiding star,

To cheer the night and point a way

Unto an everlasting day,

When I, with unveiled eyes, shall see

The Crucified of Galilee!