On which once suffered the Ruler of nations
Free from all faults, own Son of God,
Whom though guiltless[3] of every sin
Through hatred hanged upon the high tree
In days of old oúr own fathers. 425
That was terrible thought. There is now great need
That we with firmness strengthen our minds,
That we of this murder become not informers,
Where the holy tree was hidden away
After the war-storm, lest máy be rejected 430
The wise old writings and óf our fathers
The lore be lost. Not long will it be[4]
That of Israelites the noble race
Over the mid-earth may reign any more,
The law-craft of earls, if this be revealed: 435
That same long ago mine elder father
Victory-famed said (his name was Zacchaéus),
The wise old man, to mine own father,
[Who afterwards made it known to his, Gn.][5] son,
(He went from this world), and spake this word: 440
'If to thée that happen in the days of thy life,
That thou may'st hear of that holy tree
Wise men inquire and questionings raise
Of that victor-wood on which the true King
Was hanged on high, Guardian of heaven, 445
Child of all peace, then quickly declare it,
Mine own dear son, ere death thee remove.
Ne'er may after that the folk of the Hebrews,
The wise in counsel, their kingdom hold,
Rule over men, but _their_ fame shall live 450