| Christ, dost Thou live indeed? or are Thy bones | |
| Still straitened in their rock-hewn sepulchre? | |
| And was Thy Rising only dreamed by her | |
| Whose love of Thee for all her sin atones? | |
| For here the air is horrid with men's groans, | 5 |
| The priests who call upon Thy name are slain, | |
| Dost Thou not hear the bitter wail of pain | |
| From those whose children lie upon the stones? | |
| Come down, O Son of God! incestuous gloom | |
| Curtains the land, and through the starless night | 10 |
| Over Thy Cross a Crescent moon I see! | |
| If Thou in very truth didst burst the tomb | |
| Come down, O Son of Man! and show Thy might | |
| Lest Mahomet be crowned instead of Thee! | |
