Bees in Amber Part 10

Since earth his body would not, He must drag it to and fro, He had tried in vain to be quit of it, But it would not let him go.

So the soul of Judas Iscariot Came by the Potter's Field, And there the ill his deed had wrought Was unto him revealed.

And when the others saw him, They leaped at him eagerly;-- "This is he for whom we suffer!

--'Tis he! 'Tis he! 'Tis he!"

Then all afire with mad desire, They chased him through the dark, And each soul carried his dead bodie, Grim, and stiff, and stark.

They struck at him with their bodies, They cursed him for his sin, They made to tear his dumb soul there, With their fingers long and lean.

And Judas fled in his horror, With that fell crew behind, And as they sped the people said Death rode upon the wind.

They chased him near, they chased him far, Because of his treachery, And ever he just escaped their l.u.s.t, And ever they were nigh.

They chased him near, they chased him far, And ever they were nigh, And never a star shone out on them Out of the cold black sky.

And as they sped by Calvary, There were empty crosses three,-- And on the ground, below the mound, Lay one in agony.

"_Three times I swore I knew Him not, And then--He looked on me.

Ah, such a look!--no harshest word Had ever proved so sharp a sword To my inconstancy_.

"_Three times I did deny Thee, Lord!

And yet, thou couldst forgive, Now am I thine--in life, in death; Thee will I serve with every breath, While I have breath to give_."

They sped by an open window, Where one knelt all alone, In great amaze, in greater grief, In woe that wrestled with belief, The Mother mourned her Son.

"_My son, I knew thee more than man,-- Ah me!--and the heart of me!

Yet, man in G.o.d, and G.o.d in man, Still wast thou part of me_.

"_The nails through thy dear hands and feet,-- Ah me! they pierced my own.

The thorns that on thy brow they plied,-- The spear they drove into thy side,-- The pangs thy G.o.dhead could not hide,-- They pierced me too, my son_.

"_My son! My son! My more than son, My heart is full for thee!

Yet, tho' I know thee so much more Than ever mortal man before,-- Yet, tho' I wors.h.i.+p and adore,-- Woe's me!--and the heart of me_!"

And ever they came by the Potter's Field, And thrust their bodies in, And ever the sick earth spat them out, Because of Iscariot's sin.

They sped along a palace-wall, The feast waxed high inside,-- On Golgotha the Cross still stood, The Cross where man had nailed his G.o.d, Red was the Rood still with his blood,-- They drank--"_The Crucified_!"

The revel gashed the sombre night, And fast the wine-cups plied,-- Time touched Eternity that day;-- G.o.d had come down to man that day;-- The world began anew that day;-- They drank--"_The Crucified_!"

And ever again to the Potter's Field, The Souls in torment came, But the black quag boiled and writhed and coiled, And would have none of them.

And everywhere strange shapes of death Walked in the fearsome gloom, For that last cry from Calvary Had rent in twain the Temple vail, And burst the gates of Doom.

Through all the startled city, walked The saints that had been dead, And to the sorrowful in heart Holy comfort ministred.

And when they met Iscariot, Sore hounded in the chase, They cried to him, for the Love of G.o.d, To seek G.o.d's grace.

And ever to the Field of Death, The souls in torment came, Seeking the rest of the Blessed Dead,-- But earth would none of them.

And as they whirled through a garden, They came on an empty tomb, The stone was gone, a soft light shone Full softly on the gloom.

Bright was that Light, and wondrous bright, 'Twas brighter than the sun; As then it shone, so s.h.i.+nes it now, And shall when Time is done.

And all along the pathway Was a track of throbbing light; Where the Christ had gone His footsteps shone, Like stars in a velvet night.

'Twas the spent soul of Iscariot Was like the wind-blown dust, As nearer still, and near, and near, He bent and crept, in doubt, and fear, He came because he must.

'Twas the sick soul of Iscariot That drew from out the night And the full of his sin was known to him In the s.h.i.+ning of the Light.

In the rim of the Light he laid him, Repented of his sin.

"_I wotted not! I wotted not!

Dear Master, take me in_!"

And as he lay there sorrowing, Up came the felon crew.

They flailed him with their dead bodies They heeded not his rue.

They flailed him with their dead bodies, They heeded not their spleen.

"_I wotted not! I wotted not!

Dear Master, take me in_!"

And then ... a Vision and a Voice,-- And the Word made manifest,-- "_Lay down thy load where I abode, And I will give thee rest_!

"_And ye,--no more hunt Iscariot!

He repents him of his sin.

And never a soul that repenteth But he may enter in_.

"_This Day the Door is opened That shall never close again, And never a soul that would come in Shall seek to come in vain_."

And the dead soul of Iscariot Was born again that night; For the Lord Christ came dead souls to claim And lead them into Light.

And the souls of the unburied, When they looked upon His face, Were cleansed of sin and entered in To His redeeming grace.

So, by that wonderful great Love Which highest heaven extols,-- To Mother Earth their dead bodies, And unto Christ their souls.

PROFIT AND LOSS

Profit?--Loss?

Who shall declare this good--that ill?-- When good and ill so intertwine But to fulfil the vast design Of an Omniscient Will?-- When seeming gain but turns to loss,-- When earthly treasure proves but dross,-- And what seemed loss but turns again To high, eternal gain?

Wisest the man who does his best, And leaves the rest To Him who counts not deeds alone, But sees the root, the flower, the fruit, And calls them one.