Friday, 10 July 2015

Kingo as a vivid storyteller

Satan has so long been binding

Satan has so long been binding
Nets to ensnare Lord Jesu’s hand!
Sin has powerful strands been twining,
Bands of hell that all withstand!
Heaven itself is tightly bound,
God’s Son has been brought to ground!
Now a prisoner he’s taken,
Mocked by all and roughly shaken.

See how onwards they coerce him,
(Though he willingly complies,)
Hands that maul him, lips that curse him,
Drive him, shove him, scream vile cries!
Wrath and hate fills every one,
Though too great a din they shun,
Like a lamb that wolf’s teeth worry
He must follow where they scurry.

Annas from his bed has risen,
This old rogue is wide awake,
To his house is Jesus driven,
Like a dove the hawk may take,
Thence to Caiaphas, where he
Meets with shame and mockery,
Suffers violence and great wrong
From the galled and evil throng.

Soon the sun will cease its beaming,
But the sun of righteousness,
Jesus, stands beside them, gleaming
At their chair of spitefulness;
Light abounds for every mind,
All, though, are completely blind,
Priests inquire as to his teaching,
Deeming it but foolish preaching.

If his teaching he’ll uncover
With a quiet gentleness,
Lies at once his truth will smother,
Clench fists speak of angriness,
Blows be dealt him to the face,
Shamelessly and out of place,
God must suffer blows and lashes
From a rogue who’s nought but ashes.

Justice here is out of keeping,
All the light of proof’s been snuffed,
All compassion fast is sleeping
Love has been locked out, rebuffed!
Might and force alone apply,
Satan holds their torch on high,
Goads the grey-haired priests as well
To turn into beasts of hell.

For false witnesses they’re questing,
Skilful liars are those sought,
Everywhere they choose those best in
Perjury to be in court!
Jesu’s face is spat upon,
Covered, struck – who does him wrong
He can only try to guess,
Who dares cause him such distress.

Ended is the court’s conniving,
He is to be put to death,
He for mercy can’t be striving –
Hear the dogs bay in one breath;
Death is sentenced on the one
Who would call himself God’s Son!
What he is he may not be,
This the world deems infamy.

Teach me, dearest Lord, to fashion
Bonds of rapture from those strands
Evil Jews wove at your passion
To bind fast your heav’nly hands,
And when Satan proffers me
Snares of joy in treachery
May my mind and heart retain
Memories of all your pain.

Should for truth I have to suffer
Should folk spit on me and mock,
Should their tongues get ever rougher,
Should my mouth take knock on knock,
Lend me then, O Jesu dear,
That same cloth, meant as a sneer,
With which they concealed your face,
Then I’ll suffer no disgrace.

Should the whole world choose to hate me,
Slander’s yoke on me inflict,
Ah, then open to elate me
That book which your pain depicts,
That its story me can warn
False were those who you did scorn.
Notwithstanding tongues so rude,
And despite the devil’s brood.

Should with death I e’er be threatened,
And with absolute disgrace,
May my soul then be enheartened
By your ever-patient face
Though you knew your fate was death,
All appeal a waste of breath,
Then will all your agony
Sweeten thoughts of death in me.

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