A cross within the portico, And leaning near an oaken door Through which the people come and go, As they have never done before.
A cock upon the transverse beam Is perched. Within the High Priest's hall A man's voice rises to a scream: “God's Face! I know Him not at all!”
A noise of laughter and of blows: “Ha! Prophet, tell us — who smote Thee?” “In sooth, this fellow Jesu knows!” “Art Thou the Christ? Come answer me!”
The morning star pales in the sky — The paschal moon dips down the hills — The vineyards in the valley lie Veiled in the mist of many rills.
A gleam of silver in the east; The cock awakes and spreads his wings; And he who of the day is priest, This canticle of Jesu sings:
Wake up! Wake up! Jerusalem — This is the day That men will slay The starry Son of Bethlehem!
Like one lone cedar straight and tall, He stands within the High Priest's hall. His hands are bound, His breast is bare, There is no pity anywhere.
His eyes are dim — They laugh at Him; And since He will not to them speak, A man now smites Him on the cheek!
Wake up! Wake up! Jerusalem — This is the day That men will slay The starry Son of Bethlehem!
Above the burning coals there stands One who is stretching forth his hands: Three times has he his Friend denied Who must this day be crucified!
Those eyes so dim Have looked at him; And he who thrice denied and swore Is running blindly to the door!
Wake up! Wake up! Jerusalem — The silver dawn Is coming on — A star hangs over Bethlehem!
A breath of buds is in the air; The feet of Spring are on the stair, Descending to her olive-press From Winter's palace, and her dress
Is wrought with flowers Of summer showers; A tear of woe is in her eye — She mourns that Mary's Son must die!
Wake up! Wake up! Jerusalem — The night is spent — Repent! Repent! What do ye down in Bethlehem?
Cedron is calling soft and low; Gethsemane will never know Again the touch of Jesu's feet: O Nazareth,
This day the death Of Him who loved you is your loss — I call this to you from His cross!
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