George Herbert--The Sacrifice (Pt 1)

O all ye, who pass by, whose eyes and mind
To worldly things are sharp, but to Me blind;
To me, who took eyes that I might you find:
Was ever grief like Mine?

The princes of My people make a head
Against their Maker: they do wish Me dead,
Who cannot wish, except I give them bread:
Was ever grief like Mine?

Without Me each one, who doth now Me brave,
Had to this day been an Egyptian slave.
They use that power against Me, which I gave:
Was ever grief like Mine?

Mine own apostle, who the bag did bear,
Though he had all I had, did not forbear
To sell Me also, and to put Me there:
Was ever grief like Mine?

For thirty pence he did My death devise,
Who at three hundred did the ointment prize,
Not half so sweet as My sweet sacrifice:
Was ever grief like Mine?

Therefore My soul melts, and My heart's dear treasure
Drops blood (the only beads) my words to measure:
O let this cup pass, if it be Thy pleasure:
Was ever grief like Mine?

These drops being tempered with a sinner's tears,
A balsam are for both the hemispheres,
Curing all wounds, but Mine; all, but My fears.
Was ever grief like Mine?

Yet My disciples sleep: I cannot gain
One hour of watching; but their drowsy brain
Comforts not Me, and doth My doctrine stain;
Was ever grief like Mine?

Arise, arise, they come. Look how they run!
Alas! what haste they make to be undone!
How with their lanterns do they seek the Sun!
Was ever grief like Mine?

With clubs and staves they seek Me, as a thief,
Who am the way of truth, the true relief,
Most true to those who are My greatest grief:
Was ever grief like Mine?

Judas, dost thou betray Me with a kiss?
Canst thou find hell about My lips? and miss
Of life, just at the gates of life and bliss?
Was ever grief like Mine?

See, they lay hold on Me, not with the hands
Of faith, but fury; yet at their commands
I suffer binding, Who have loosed their bands:
Was ever grief like Mine?

All My disciples fly; fear puts a bar
Betwixt My friends and Me. They leave the star
That brought the wise men of the East from far:
Was ever grief like Mine?

.....