Page:Medivalhymnsand00nealgoog.djvu/243



of Sion, see your King!

Go forth, go forth to meet Him!

Your Solomon is hastening

Where that dear flock shall greet Him!

The sceptre and the crown by right

He wears, in robe of purple dight.

Your Solomon, the Prince of Peace,

Bears not His Mother's laurel:

But with the olive bids to cease

The long and bloody quarrel:

, the of  Most High,

Offers His peace to them that die.

It glitters fair, His Diadem,

That Thorns are there entwining: