Give me that Stranger
Who since his youth
Has wandered as a stranger.
Give me that Stranger
Upon whom I look with wonder,
Seeing him a guest of death.
Give me that Stranger
Whom envious men
Estrange from the world.
Give me that Stranger
That I may bury him in a tomb,
Who being a stranger has no place
Whereon to lay his head.
Give me that stranger
To whom his mother cried out
As she saw him dead:
Upon whom I look with wonder,
Seeing him a guest of death.
Give me that Stranger
Whom envious men
Estrange from the world.
Give me that Stranger
That I may bury him in a tomb,
Who being a stranger has no place
Whereon to lay his head.
Give me that stranger
To whom his mother cried out
As she saw him dead:
“My Son, my senses are wounded
And my heart is burned
As I see you dead!
Yet, trusting in your resurrection,
I magnify you!”
And my heart is burned
As I see you dead!
Yet, trusting in your resurrection,
I magnify you!”
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