Poem by Caroline Hazard

The Wine-Press

Who is this that comes from Edom
In such glorious array,
With his festal garments gleaming,
Travelling on his royal way
With a face majestic, calm and grave?
I that speak in righteousness, mighty to save.

Why is thy apparel crimson,
Why is all thy garments' pride
Stained as in the time of vintage
And with blood-red-color dyed?
Because of helpers I had none-
I have trodden the wine-press alone.

1. All Hail to Thee, Child Jesus!
2. This Is That Bread
3. Vesper Hymn
4. Mount Carmel

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