The Complete Poetical Works of Robert Buchanan In Two Volumes. With a Portrait |
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The Complete Poetical Works of Robert Buchanan | ||
I ceased; but with a sudden wail of pain
The other threw his arms into the air,
Crying, ‘Though golden in the light of day,
And all enwrought it be with earthly gems,
Thy sepulchre, O murdered Nazarene,
Is still thy sepulchre!’ and, suddenly
Turning upon me with a fever'd face,
He added, ‘Even as wondrous faery gold,
Gather'd in secret by a maiden's hand,
Turneth to ashes and to wither'd leaves,
So shall that City soon become to thee.
Christ's City, sayest thou? Christ's? Christopolis?
If that be Christ's I call my curse on Christ
Who built it to profane humanity!’
Then shrank I from his side, as one that shrinks
From tongues of fire, and, horror in mine eyes,
Gazed at that other, greatly wondering;
And as I stood, a pilgrim hastening by
Cried out, ‘Avoid that man! It is a snake!
He speaks for thy perdition!’
The other threw his arms into the air,
Crying, ‘Though golden in the light of day,
And all enwrought it be with earthly gems,
Thy sepulchre, O murdered Nazarene,
Is still thy sepulchre!’ and, suddenly
Turning upon me with a fever'd face,
He added, ‘Even as wondrous faery gold,
Gather'd in secret by a maiden's hand,
Turneth to ashes and to wither'd leaves,
So shall that City soon become to thee.
Christ's City, sayest thou? Christ's? Christopolis?
If that be Christ's I call my curse on Christ
Who built it to profane humanity!’
Then shrank I from his side, as one that shrinks
From tongues of fire, and, horror in mine eyes,
Gazed at that other, greatly wondering;
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Cried out, ‘Avoid that man! It is a snake!
He speaks for thy perdition!’
The Complete Poetical Works of Robert Buchanan | ||