Midway between the flaming lines he lay, A tumbled heap of blood, and sweat, and clay; — God's son! And none could succour him. First this one tried,
Then that... and then another... and they died; — God's sons! Those others saw his plight, and laughed and jeered, And, at each helper's fall, laughed more, and cheered;
— God's sons? So, through the torture of an endless day, In agonies that none could ease, he lay; — God's son!
Then, as he wrestled for each hard-won breath, Bleeding his life out, craving only death;— — God's son! — Came One in white, athwart the fiery hail,
And in His hand, a shining cup — The Grail; — God's Son! He knelt beside him on the reeking ground, And with a touch soothed each hot-throbbing wound;
— God's Son! Gave him to drink, and in his failing ear Whispered sweet words of comfort and good cheer; — God's Son!
The suffering one looked up into the face Of Him whose death to sinners brought God's grace; — God's Son! The tender brow with unhealed wounds was scarred,
The hand that held The Cup, the nails had marred; — God's Son! “Brother, for thee I suffered greater woes; As I forgave,— do thou forgive thy foes,
— God's son!” “Yea, Lord, as Thou forgavest, I forgive; And now, my soul unto Thyself receive, — God's Son!”
Thick-clustered in the battered trench, amazed, They gazed at that strange sight... and gazed... and gazed; — God's sons! — The Christ of God, come down to succour one
Of their own number,— their own mate — — God's son! And none who saw that sight will e'er forget How once, upon the field of death, they met
— God's Son.
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