Blind Bartimeus

Blind Bartimeus at the gates
Of Jericho in darkness waits;
He hears the crowd;--he hears a breath
Say, "It is Christ of Nazareth!"
And calls, in tones of agony,
[Greek here]

The thronging multitudes increase;
Blind Bartimeus, hold thy peace!
But still, above the noisy crowd,
The beggar's cry is shrill and loud;
Until they say, "He calleth thee!"
[Greek here]

Then saith the Christ, as silent stands
The crowd, "What wilt thou at my hands?"
And he replies, "O give me light!
Rabbi, restore the blind man's sight.
And Jesus answers, '

 '

[Greek here]!



Ye that have eyes, yet cannot see,

In darkness and in misery,

Recall those mighty Voices Three,

[Greek here]!

[Greek here]!

[Greek here]!

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow was an American poet and educator. He wrote many lyric poems known for their musicality and often presenting stories of mythology and legend. Some of his famous works include "Paul Revere's Ride" and "The Song of Hiawatha." Longfellow was one of the most popular American poets of his time and remains a significant figure in the canon of American literature.

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Blind Bartimeus

    As Jesus went into Jericho town,
    Twas darkness all, from toe to crown,
        About blind Bartimeus.
    He said, "My eyes are more than dim,
    They are no use for seeing him:
        No matter--he can see us!"

    "Cry out, cry out, blind brother--cry;
    Let not salvation dear go by.--
        Have mercy, Son of David."
    Though they were blind, they both could hear--
    They heard, and cried, and he drew near;
        And so the blind were saved.

    O Jesus Christ, I am very blind;
    Nothing comes through into my mind;
        'Tis well I am not dumb:
    Although I see thee not, nor hear,
    I cry because thou may'st be near:
        O son of Mary, come!

    I hear it through the all things blind:
    Is ...

George MacDonald

Bartimæus

"What means this throng?" a blind man said,
Whilst begging by the highway side;
Begging and blind, and lacking bread,
His ears discern the living tide.
"Jesus of Nazareth passeth by,"
Was answered. Had he heard aright?
Oh, was the heavenly healer nigh,
He who could give the blind their sight?
"Jesus, have mercy!" lo, he cried,
"Oh, son of David, pity me!"
And when the jeering crowd deride,
His accents form a clearer plea.
Jesus stood still. A kindly voice
Bade him good cheer "He calleth thee."
Thus must his lonely heart rejoice,
"He thinks of me; yes, even me!"
Bartimæus found the Living Light
Who asked and granted his request.
His blinded eyes received their sight;
With joy he followed with the rest.
How oft when Jesus passes by,
The ...

Nancy Campbell Glass

The Miracle

Up from the templed city of the Jews,
The road ran straight and white
To Jericho, the City of the Palms,
The City of Delight.

Down that still road from far Judean hills
The shepherds drove their sheep
At silver dawn - at stirring of the birds -
When men were all asleep.

Full many went that weary way at noon,
Or rested by the trees,
Romans and slaves, Gentiles and bearded priests,
Sinners and Pharisees.

But when the pink clouds drifted far and high,
Like rose leaves blowing past,
When in the west where one star blessed the sky
The gates of day shut fast.

All travellers journeyed home, and the moonlight
Washed the road fresh and sweet,
Until it seemed a gleaming ivory path,
Waiting for royal feet.

*    *    *    ...

Virna Sheard

The Blind Man Of Jericho.

He sat by the dusty way-side,
    With weary, hopeless mien,
On his furrowed brow the traces
    Of care and want were seen;
With outstretched hand and with bowed-down head
He asked the passers-by for bread.

The palm-tree's feathery foliage
    Around him thickly grew,
And the smiling sky above him
    Wore Syria's sun-bright hue;
But dark alike to that helpless one
Was murky midnight or noon-tide sun.

But voices breaking the silence
    Are heard, fast drawing nigh,
And falls on his ear the clamor
    Of vast crowds moving by:
"What is it?" he asks, with panting breath;
They answer: "Jesus of Nazareth."

What a spell lay in that title,
    Linked with such mem'ries high
Of miracles of mercy,
    Wrought 'neath Judaea'...

Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon

Tenebræ

They say that I shall find him if I go
Along the dusty highways, or the green
Tracks of the downland shepherds, or between
The swaying corn, or where cool waters flow;
And others say, that speak as if they know,
That daily in the cities, in the mean
Dark streets, amid the crowd he may be seen,
With thieves and harlots wandering to and fro.

But I am blind. How shall a blind man dare
Venture along the roaring crowded street,
Or branching roads where I may never hit
The way he has gone? But someday if I sit
Quietly at this corner listening, there
May come this way the slow sound of his feet.

J. D. C. Fellow

Religion And Doctrine.

    He stood before the Sanhedrim;
The scowling rabbis gazed at him.
He recked not of their praise or blame;
There was no fear, there was no shame,
For one upon whose dazzled eyes
The whole world poured its vast surprise.
The open heaven was far too near,
His first day's light too sweet and clear,
To let him waste his new-gained ken
On the hate-clouded face of men.

    But still they questioned, "Who art thou?
What hast thou been? What art thou now?
Thou art not he who yesterday
Sat here and begged beside the way;
For he was blind."

- "And I am he;
For I was blind, but now I see."

    He told the story o'er and o'er;
It was his full heart's only lore:
A prophet on the Sabbath-day
Had touched his sightless eyes with clay,

John Hay