Poems (Dodd)/The Crown of Thorns
For works with similar titles, see The Crown of Thorns.
THE CROWN OF THORNS.
In the golden light of a summer day,I saw a child with the flowers at play;His face was fair, and his locks of brownWere careless twined with a rosy crown.
To the village green came a band so gay,With a gentle girl, the queen of May;They bade her reign o'er the vernal hours,And decked her brow with a crown of flowers.
Fair groups were met in a lighted hall,But one brilliant star outshone them all;Her eyes were dark, and her raven curlsFloated beneath a crown of pearls.
A feast is spread in yon mansion proud,And many guests to the banquet crowd;A stately dame receives them now,With a crown of gems on her lofty brow.
A monarch sits on his throne of state,While titled slaves around him wait;His hands a jeweled sceptre hold,And his head is graced with a crown of gold.
On the fatal cross I my Saviour see;Did he suffer thus and die for me?No glittering toy his brow adorns,Which is pierced by a cruel crown of thorns.
When I see the proud in their state pass by,With the jewelled brow, and the haughty eye,I think of the crown my Saviour wore,And the world's vain show deceives no more.
Then bring to me no wreath of flowers,Which fade away with the fleeting hours,And no circlet graced with the flashing gem,For my brow would ache 'neath a diadem.
Oh, sinless Saviour! I fain would fleeFrom earth's vain pride to follow thee;The meekness choose which thy life adorns,And patient wear e'en a crown of thorns.