 | The Collected Poems of Philip Bourke Marston |  |
90
JUSTIFICATION.
I charge you lay on this dead man no blame.
Had not God so his mighty spirit cursed,
And set his hand against him from the first,
He now had had as great and pure a name
As ever flashed through all the world like flame.
Had not his soul been wasted by this thirst,
Until his o'erwrought heart was nigh to burst,
He had not drunk so deeply of this shame.
Had not God so his mighty spirit cursed,
And set his hand against him from the first,
He now had had as great and pure a name
As ever flashed through all the world like flame.
Had not his soul been wasted by this thirst,
Until his o'erwrought heart was nigh to burst,
He had not drunk so deeply of this shame.
The hands of God are strong to make or mar;
And if He gather clouds about one star,
Who says that star is least among the rest?
I swear, by these blank eyes and tortured breast,
Though I should take upon me God's worst ban,
'T is God that I abjure, and not this man.
And if He gather clouds about one star,
Who says that star is least among the rest?
I swear, by these blank eyes and tortured breast,
Though I should take upon me God's worst ban,
'T is God that I abjure, and not this man.
| The Collected Poems of Philip Bourke Marston | |