nd you in God: and once, when I looked down,
And saw an ugly sight--so many wounds!
'What matter?' thought I. 'His dear eyes are dark;
For them alone I kept these limbs so white--
A foolish pride! As God wills now. 'Tis just.'
But then the judge spoke out in haste: 'She is mad,
Or fenced by magic arts! She feels no pain!'
He did not know I was on fire within:
Better he should not; so his sin was less.
Then he cried fiercely, 'Take the slave away,
And crucify her by her husband's side!'
And at those words a film came on my face--
A sickening rush of joy--was that the end?
That my reward? I rose, and tried to go--
But all the eyes had vanished, and the judge;
And all the buildings melted into mist:
So how they brought me here I cannot tell--
Here, here, by you, until the judgment-day,
And after that for ever and for ever!
Ah! If I could but reach that hand! One touch!
One finger tip, to send the thrill through me
I felt but yesterday!--No! I can wait:--
Another body!--Oh, new limbs are ready,
Free, pure, instinct with soul through every nerve,
Kept for us in the treasuries of God.
They will not mar the love they try to speak,
They will not fail my soul, as these have done!
. . . . .
Will you hear more? Nay--you know all the rest:
Yet those poor eyes--alas! they could not see
My waking, when you hung above me there
With hands outstretched to bless the penitent--
Your penitent--even like The Lord Himself--
I gloried in you!--like The Lord Himself!
Sharing His very sufferings, to the crown
Of thorns which they had put on that dear brow
To make you like Him--show you as you were!
I told them so! I bid them look on you,
And see there what was the highest throne on earth--
The throne of suffering, where the Son of God
Endured and triumphed for them. But they laughed;
All but one soldier, gray, with many scars;
And he stood silent. Then I crawled to you,
And kissed your bleeding feet, and called aloud--
You heard me! You know all! I am at peace.
Peace, peace, as still and bright as is the moon
Upon your limbs, came on me at your smile,
And kept me happy, when they dragged me back
From that last kiss, and spread me on the cross,
And bound my wrists and ankles--Do not sigh:
I prayed, and bore it: and since they raised me up
My eyes have never left your face, my own, my own,
Nor will, till death comes! . . .
Do I feel much pain?
Not much. Not maddening. None I cannot bear.
It has become li