Part 4 — RICHARD LE GALLIENNE

SHE’s somewhere in the sunlight strong, Her tears are in the falling rain, She calls me in the wind’s soft song, And with the flowers she comes again. Yon bird is but her messenger, The moon is but her silver car; Yea! sun and moon are sent by her, And every wistful waiting star.

LOUD mockers in the roaring street Say Christ is crucified again: Twice pierced His gospel-bearing feet, Twice broken His great heart in vain. I hear, and to myself I smile, For Christ talks with me all the while. No angel now to roll the stone From off His unawaking sleep, In vain shall Mary watch alone, In vain the soldiers vigil keep. Yet while they deem my Lord is dead My eyes are on His shining head. Ah! never more shall Mary hear That voice exceeding sweet and low Within the garden calling clear: Her Lord is gone, and she must go. Yet all the while my Lord I meet In every London lane and street. Poor Lazarus shall wait in vain, And Bartimæus still go blind; The healing hem shall ne’er again Be touch’d by suffering humankind. Yet all the while I see them rest, The poor and outcast, on His breast. No more unto the stubborn heart With gentle knocking shall He plead, No more the mystic pity start, For Christ twice dead is dead indeed. So in the street I hear men say, Yet Christ is with me all the day.