The Poetry Corner

His Saviour's Words Going To The Cross.

By Robert Herrick

Have, have ye no regard, all ye Who pass this way, to pity Me, Who am a man of misery! A man both bruis'd, and broke, and one Who suffers not here for Mine own, But for My friends' transgression! Ah! Sion's daughters, do not fear The cross, the cords, the nails, the spear, The myrrh, the gall, the vinegar; For Christ, your loving Saviour, hath Drunk up the wine of God's fierce wrath; Only there's left a little froth, Less for to taste than for to show What bitter cups had been your due, Had He not drank them up for you.