John Keble

“ Awake! why linger in the gorgeous town,
Sworn liegemen of the Cross and thorny crown?
⁠Up from your beds of sloth for shame,
⁠Speed to the eastern mount like flame,
Nor wonder, should ye find your King in tears,
E'en with the loud Hosanna ringing in His ears.
Alas! no need to rouse them: long ago
They are gone forth to swell Messiah's show:
With glittering robes and garlands sweet
They strew the ground beneath His feet:
All but your hearts are there— O doomed to prove
The arrows winged in Heaven for Faith that will not love! ”

“ In wilful slumber, deepening every hour,
That draw their curtains closer round,
The nearer swells the trumpet's sound?
Lord; ere our trembling lamps sink down and die,
Touch us with chastening hand, and make us feel Thee nigh. ”

“ Holds its still course in Heaven afar:
E'en so, heart-searching Lord, as years roll on.
Thou keepest silent watch from Thy triumphal throne:
E'en so, the world is thronging round to gaze
On the dread vision of the latter days. ”