The King Who Comes to Weep Not with the legion’s armored tread,Nor chariot’s iron shock,He comes, where leaves and cloaks are spread,The rider on the rock. A borrowed beast, a throne of air,The shouts of “Hosanna!” ringYet in that shout, the seeds of “Crucify!”That soon the crowd will bring. For they expect a conqueror’s swordTo …
