Classic Poem

“Ay! and with these thrice pardoned lips to tell thee
The story of my infamy and wrong,
And the attentive world will not repel thee,
If thou art pure and strong.

“For I am guiltless of the dire disaster
By which all-holy Christ to doom was led;
I purely worshiped my immortal master;
For Him I would have bled.

“I loved his words, that made my spirit sweeter;
My soul was free from any taint of guile;
I was the brother and the friend of Peter,
And lived in Jesus' smile!

“I, the poor Kerioth sinner, beggar, dreamer,
Had gained, oh envied goal! his hallowed love,
Than love of shining seraphim supremer,
Love purer than a dove!

“For I was happy in the vales Judean,
Where one and all his gentle glance could claim,
And when I hearkened to the ceaseless pæan
That hailed his august name,

“When we together walked by joys elated,
That even no sad, ulterior torment mars,
While over us his blue home scintillated
With majesties of stars!

“And where he told us of the Heavenly wonders
Which we, if pure of spirit, would behold,
How we should hear God's grand, melodious thunders
In radiant towns of gold!

“And I recall his allegories tender,
How we should mutely suffer for God's sake,
While the Samarian moon in flawless splendor
Haloed the murmuring lake.

“Ay! and my whole soul with a rapture nameless
Yearned to make perilless his wandering life,
And save the Son of God, alone and blameless,
From outrage and all strife.

“In those most consecrated days, oh mortal!
In those indelible and perfect hours,
To heal the stricken at the city's portal,
I had my Master's powers!