Poems[2]

Whenever there is silence around me, By day or by night, I am startled by the cry “Take me down from the cross!” The first time I heard it I went out and searched Till I found a man in the throes of crucifixion, And I said, “I will take you down,” And I tried to take the nails out of his feet, But he said “Let be; For I cannot be taken down Till every man, every woman, and every child Come together to take me down.” And I said, “But I cannot bear your cry— What can I do?” And he said “Go about the world, Telling everyone you meet ‘There is a man upon the cross.’”

I go about the world Telling all the rich, And all the happy, and all the comfortable, “There is a man upon the cross.” But they all say “We are sure you are mistaken; There was a man upon the cross Two thousand years ago; But he died, and was taken down And was decently buried; And a miracle happened, So that he rose again And ascended into Heaven, And is happy evermore.” Still I go about the world saying “There is a man upon the cross.”

Any groveller May be straightened by a cross If he lies down upon it at night, And sleeps upon it with outstretched arms; If he rises in the morning, And shoulders it bravely, Neither resenting it Nor being ashamed of it, He will find that he can bring his eyes To look upon life Instead of upon the grave, And that he will even be able To lift them to the stars; And that he can live On the levels he is able to look upon.