2. Love Cast Out
A victim crowned am I,
Crowned, piercèd, and adored,
In my eyes a flame of fire,
In my heart a sword.
Christ is my brother dear,
Sister to Christ am I,
For He has felt the thirsty wound
That I must perish by.
He came a king uncrowned,
Unrobed, the Son of Loss,
And so they pierced His body through,
And hung Him on the cross.
And my love wore no robe,
And my love wore no crown,
My love a pilgrim was, and trod
The roads in pilgrim’s brown.
And since my love went thus,
A stranger and a dove,
You built a cruel wooden cross,
And crucified my love.
And now you bend the knee
—As now we Christ adore—
And set your bleeding sacrifice
At God’s right hand above the skies,
To worship evermore.
The third day, from the dead
The Saviour rose again,
He put on robes of royalty,
And sat Him down to reign.
But my love shall not rise,
My love shall rest and sleep,
My love is tired, why should it wake,
That your eyes may not weep?
For Christ the Saviour has
A gentler heart than mine,
He lets you crown what you did kill,
Of His torn body eat your fill,
And make His blood your wine.
You shall not use me so—
Go far, the world is wide;
Why should you wake from its poor rest
The heart you crucified?
Beneath the tender ground
My love shall sleep for aye,
No last trump for my love shall sound
No resurrection day.
A victim crowned am I,
Crowned, piercéd, and adored,
In my eyes a flame of fire,
In my heart a sword.