Chapter IV

O Lover of mankind,
To Thee all glory be,
For Thou didst give not death, but life,
When hanging on the tree.

{Dia Lazarou tên egersin Kyrie}

({Antiphônon G' Êchos B'})

When Lazarus rose at Christ's command,
And God was glorified of men,
The children cried Hosanna then,
But Judas would not understand.

{Êchos ho autos}

When seated with Thy chosen band
Thou didst to Thy disciples say
That one, O Christ, would Thee betray,
But Judas would not understand.

{ho autos}

The sop revealed the traitor's hand,
In answer to the question made;
They saw by whom Thou wert betrayed,
But Judas would not understand.

{ho autos}

The Jews, O Christ, Thy life demand,
'Twas purchased for a price like this--
For silver pieces and a kiss,
But Judas would not understand.

{ho autos}

Thou, with Thine own unstainèd hand,
Didst wash the feet, and humbly teach
That such a task becometh each,
But Judas would not understand.

{ho autos}

'Watch thou and pray,' was Thy command,
Lest, thoughtless, the disciples fall
Beneath the tempter's bitter thrall;
But Judas would not understand.

{sêmeron grêgorei ho Ioudas}

({Antiphônon Êchos barys})

I

The wily Judas watches near
The Master's path to-day,
That he may into wicked hands
The Eternal Lord betray,
Who in the desert lone and dread
Supplied the multitudes with bread.

II

To-day the wicked one denies
His Teacher and his Friend--
Once a disciple, he betrays
His Master in the end.
For silver, see the Lord is sold,
Who manna gave in days of old.

III

{ho autos}

To-day the Jews on Calvary
A cruel Cross have raised,
And nailed upon that Cross, their Lord
Have wickedly abased,
Who made a pathway through the sea
And led them from captivity.

IV

To-day the spear is lifted high
And thrust into His side,
Who for His people raised His hand
And wounded Egypt's pride;
They give Him vinegar and gall,
Who showered down manna on them all.

{Ho anaballomenos phôs hôs himation}

({Antiphônon I' Êchos pl. b'})

I

O Thou who cloth'st Thyself complete
With light as with a garment fair,
Thou bor'st the cruel, vulgar stare,
Unrobed before the judgment-seat.

II

Thou gav'st the hand its subtle power,
But with the hand, O Lord of grace,
Upon Thy pallid, careworn face,
They smote Thee in that evil hour.