| AH, Christ, it were enough to know | |
| That brooding on the unborn things | |
| Thou gatherest up the years that go | |
| Like a hen’s brood beneath her wings. | |
| |
| It were enough to know that those, | 5 |
| More evil than the years that fall, | |
| Who heard Thee mocked Thy safe repose | |
| And would not trust Thee at Thy call. | |
| |
| It were enough that Thou hast died, | |
| Because Thyself Thou couldst not save, | 10 |
| Unless by losing from Thy side | |
| Thy sons that drove Thee to Thy grave. | |
| |
| Yet more and more we know and see, | |
| For Golgotha the shade retains | |
| Of Him who died, the Form of Thee, | 15 |
| Of Him who bore Thy fleshly pains. | |
| |
| Nor there alone, this Form shall be | |
| Still seen within us, Thou dost say | |
| Until there shine on earth and sea | |
| Light of the unforeboded Day. | 20 |
| |
| O Christ the Wanderer, marked as Cain, | |
| We know the sign upon Thy brow; | |
| We know the trailing cross, the stain; | |
| The passing footstep whispers now. | |
| |
| It was Thy hand, we learn at last, | 25 |
| That nailed Thee in that far-off year; | |
| Thy hand as now Thou wanderest past, | |
| Drives deep within Thy side the spear. | |
| |
| While evil holds the world in grip | |
| And men revile the eternal powers, | 30 |
| This vision holds Thee lip to lip | |
| Close to our love and makes Thee ours. | |
