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The Crown of Thorn

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Pacific Press Publishing Association · Mountain View, California · Dec 17, 1912

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 39, No. 49.

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The Crown of Thorn

By Ella G. Ives

A wondrous sight! In Pilate's hall, The Prince of Peace on mockery's throne; While jeering acclamations fall From ribald lips and hearts of stone! O, bitter irony of scorn, The King of Glory crowned with thorn!
A scarlet robe around Him flung; His scepter but a flimsy reed; Knees bent in insult; blows that stung, And taunts that made His spirit bleed. O, sharper than the wounding thorn, The scoffs and jeers so meekly borne!
By suffering crowned, in sorrow's night; His royal lineage ne'er so plain As when upon the Lord of light Sin's scarlet robe fell in disdain; And brow and soul alike were torn With seal of kingship,—crown of thorn!
O Lord of Lords! O King of Kings! More glorious in Thy lowliness Than when the world Thy triumph sings, And princes to Thy footstool press,— This, this Thy coronation morn, Thy diadem, a crown of thorn.
—Ella G. Ives, in "Advance."