Poetry

From: The Prospect
Narrator: Ivona Gentwo
 •  2 min. read  •  grade level: 12
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And when He was come near, He beheld the city, and wept over it, saying, If thou hadst known, even thou, at least in this thy day, the things which belong unto thy peace! but now they are hid from thine eyes.—Luke 19:41, 4241And when he was come near, he beheld the city, and wept over it, 42Saying, If thou hadst known, even thou, at least in this thy day, the things which belong unto thy peace! but now they are hid from thine eyes. (Luke 19:41‑42).
O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that killest the prophets, and stonest them which are sent unto thee, how often would I have gathered thy children together even as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, and ye would not!—Matthew 23:3737O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that killest the prophets, and stonest them which are sent unto thee, how often would I have gathered thy children together, even as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, and ye would not! (Matthew 23:37).
'Tis evening—over Salem's towers a golden lustre gleams,
And lovingly and lingeringly the sun prolongs his beams;
He looks, as on some work undone, for which the time has past,
So tender is his glance and mild, it seems to be his last.
But a brighter sun is looking on, more earnest is His eye,
For thunder-clouds will veil Him soon, and darken all the sky:
O'er Zion still He bends, as loath His presence to remove,
And on her walls there lingers yet the sunshine of His love.
'Tis Jesus—with an anguished heart, a parting glance He throws,
For mercy's day she has sinned away for a night of dreadful woes;
“Would that thou hadst known," He said, while down rolled many a tear,
"My words of peace in this thy day, but now thine end is near;
Alas for thee, Jerusalem, how cold thy heart to me,
How often in these arms of love, would I have gathered thee
My sheltering wing had been your shield, my love your happy lot;
I would it had been thus with thee,—I would, but ye would not."
He wept alone, and men passed on, the men whose sins He bore,
They saw the man of sorrows weep, they had seen Him weep before;
They asked not whom those tears were for, they asked not whence they flowed;
Those tears were for rebellious man,—their source, the heart of God:
They fell upon this desert earth, like drops from heaven on high,
Struck from an ocean tide of love that fills eternity;
With love and tenderness divine those crystal cells o'erflow,
'Tis God that weeps, through human eyes, for human guilt and woe.
That hour has fled, those tears are told, the agony is past,
The Lord has wept, the Lord has bled, but He has not loved His last;
His eye is downward bent, still ranging to and fro,
Where’er in this wide wilderness there roams the child of woe.
Nor His alone, the Three in One, who looked through Jesus' eye,
Could still the harps of angel bands, to hear the suppliant sigh;
And when the rebel chooses wrath, God mourns his hapless lot,
Deep breathing from His heart of love, I would, but ye would not.
J. K.