| LOUD mockers in the roaring street | |
| Say Christ is crucified again: | |
| Twice pierced His gospel-bearing feet, | |
| Twice broken His great heart in vain. | |
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| I hear, and to myself I smile, | 5 |
| For Christ talks with me all the while. | |
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| No angel now to roll the stone | |
| From off His unawaking sleep, | |
| In vain shall Mary watch alone, | |
| In vain the soldiers vigil keep. | 10 |
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| Yet while they deem my Lord is dead | |
| My eyes are on His shining head. | |
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| Ah! never more shall Mary hear | |
| That voice exceeding sweet and low | |
| Within the garden calling clear: | 15 |
| Her Lord is gone, and she must go. | |
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| Yet all the while my Lord I meet | |
| In every London lane and street. | |
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| Poor Lazarus shall wait in vain, | |
| And Bartimæus still go blind; | 20 |
| The healing hem shall ne'er again | |
| Be touch'd by suffering humankind. | |
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| Yet all the while I see them rest, | |
| The poor and outcast, on His breast. | |
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| No more unto the stubborn heart | 25 |
| With gentle knocking shall He plead, | |
| No more the mystic pity start, | |
| For Christ twice dead is dead indeed. | |
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| So in the street I hear men say, | |
| Yet Christ is with me all the day. | 30 |
