Classic Poem

It was a saint of Magdala,
Who softly made her way among
The frightened throng, until she reached
The cross whereon Christ hung.

It was a saint of Magdala,
Who stayed there praying, as was meet;
And as she prayed, and made her moan,
She kissed his mangled feet.

She kissed his bleeding feet, and prayed,
And as she prayed, she heard the ring
Of joyous music — and she knew
She heard the angels sing.

And then, unto her gladdened heart,
A soft voice whispered from above:
" Weep not, O Mary, all is well —
And thou art saved, through love! "

Forespent for joy, she swooned and fell,
While through the awful storm and gloom
Swart Judas, groaning in despair,
Sped downward to his doom.