He faith in some, envy in some begat,/
For, what weak spirits admire, ambitious hate:/
In both affections many to Him ran./
But O ! the worst are most, they will and can,/
Alas ! and do, unto th' Immaculate,/
Whose creature Fate is, now prescribe a fate,/
Measuring self-life's infinity to span,/
Nay to an inch. Lo ! where condemned He/
Bears His own cross, with pain, yet by and by/
When it bears him, He must bear more and die./
Now Thou art lifted up, draw me to Thee,/
And at Thy death giving such liberal dole,/
Moist, with one drop of Thy blood my dry soul.
-Stanza 5: The Crucifixion from John Donne's La Corona
Blood of The Lamb - Billy Bragg & Wilco
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