Jesus Wept Poem by William Michael Rossetti

Mary rose up, as one in sleep might rise,
And went to meet her brother's Friend: and they
Who tarried with her said: 'she goes to pray
And weep where her dead brother's body lies.'
So, with their wringing of hands and with sighs,
They stood before Him in the public way.
'Had'st Thou been with him, Lord, upon that day,
He had not died,' she said, drooping her eyes.
Mary and Martha with bowed faces kept
Holding His garments, one on each side.--'Where
Have ye laid him?' He asked. 'Lord, come and see.'
The sound of grieving voices heavily
And universally was round Him there,
A sound that smote His spirit. Jesus wept.