The street stands crowded from wall to wall.
Yon Hebrew boy, come here, I pray,
And tell me what has sufficed to call
Such multitude abroad today.
Friend, do you see upon yonder hill
Where winds the road round Olive’s brow?
“Lad, I see only the sunshine still
And ragged trees and dust below.
While on the path, some weary men
With one in their midst, as poor as they
Is much bespent, for I see again,
He rides an ass, and draws this way.
“I, stranger, many a month before,
Stood on the coast of Gennesaret’s sea;
In wicker basket, some loaves I bore,
From home, my mother prepared for me.
“Now stranger, just at the set of sun,
He that was teaching called me near;
‘Your loaves will you give?’ ‘Every one!’
I said, and gave them with ne’er a fear.
“Well, stranger, five thousand men and more
Had heard the teacher’s words that day,
And these were hungry; He blessed my store,
And fed them all, and sent away.
Now stranger, rides toward the gate
The teacher, He that spoke that day;
I seek Him now, would not be late—
Keep me no longer; I cannot stay.
Hosanna! down from the hill they cry,
Hosanna! comes back from town below
With homage meet and honor high,
At Christ’s dear feet green palms they throw.