Robert Bush 7 p.m., Dec. 7
- Edwin Arlington Robinson
- Friendless and faint, with martyred steps and slow,
- Faint for the flesh, but for the spirit free,
- Stung by the mob that came to see the show,
- The Master toiled along to Calvary;
- We gibed him, as he went, with houndish glee,
- Till his dimmed eyes for us did overflow;
- We cursed his vengeless hands thrice wretchedly, —
- And this was nineteen hundred years ago.
- But after nineteen hundred years the shame
- Still clings, and we have not made good the loss
- That outraged faith has entered in his name.
- Ah, when shall come love’s courage to be strong!
- Tell me, O Lord — tell me, O Lord, how long
- Are we to keep Christ writhing on the cross!