Blessed, unhappy city! dearly loved But still unkind! art this day nothing moved? Art senseless still? O can'st thou sleep When God himself for thee doth weep! Stiff-necked Jews! your fathers' breed That served the calf, not Abr'am's seed, Had not the babes @3Hosanna@1 cried, The stones had spoke, what you denied. Dear Jesus weep on! pour this latter Soul-quick'ning rain, this living water On their dead hearts; but (O my fears!) They will drink blood, that despise tears. My dear, bright Lord! my Morning-star! Shed this live-dew on fields which far From hence long for it! shed it there, Where the starved earth groans for one tear! This land, though with thy heart's blest extract fed, Will nothing yield but thorns to wound thy head. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 1 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING THE YOUNG GRAY HEAD by CAROLINE ANNE BOWLES SOUTHEY THE SAD SHEPHERD by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 97. AL-WARITH by EDWIN ARNOLD WATER WOMAN by JOSEPH AUSLANDER DECLASSE by ANNA EMILIA BAGSTAD |