Classic Poem

Give Me thy kiss, brother,—
Kiss, ere we part.
That and no other
Shall comfort My Heart.

Where the ground fallows,
All mixed with dross,
Thou from thy gallows
Shalt see My Cross.

Friends will be turning
Their faces from Me:
Better for learning
Thy face I'll then see,
And on My lips burning
Thy last kiss shall be.

Stronger than love was
Now is thy hate:
Why, where the proof was,
Com'st thou so late?

Since thou wouldst test Me,
Kiss, and have done:
Then can I rest Me
From under the sun.

Love was My teaching,
Man's heart My school:
Deaf to My preaching
Thou prov'st Me a fool.

I, on the wrong quest,
Sought for thy heart.
Take, then, thy conquest,—
Kiss Me, and part!

Go, but first hearken,
O child of My pain,
Ere the day darken
Where we two hang slain:

Thou dost betray Me:
So let Me die.
But when men slay Me,
And I hang high

Outside the city
'Mid mockings of men,
Brother, for pity
Think of Me then!

And when thou hast tasted
Thy lonelier grave,
Him thou hast wasted
Come back to, and save!

In the Potter's Field
When thou liest dead,
My heart in thine
Shall be buried.

From the Potter's Field,
There, where it lies,
When the graves yield
My Body shall rise.

And men shall know
When the grave stands riven
How that thy body
To Me was given.

In the Potter's Field
When men love thee,
Then shall they yield
Their hearts unto Me.

Give Me thy kiss, brother,
Kiss, and be dumb!
This way—no other—
My Kingdom shall come.