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 command,
I suffer binding, who have loosed their bands.
Was ever grief like mine?
All my disciples fly! Fear put a bar
Betwixt my friends and me; they leave the star
Which brought the Wise Men from the East from far.
Was ever grief like mine?
- George Herbert