2.
“I looked also upon My right hand, and saw there was no
man that would know Me.”
Now in that corner of the vaulted dome
One soul of evil all the hearts doth stir;
They jeer and beat the holy Prisoner,
With mockeries and jests around Him come,
Mantling in scorn that Face which doth illume
The Heaven of Heavens. Now one pollutes His ear,
Another with injurious blows draws near.
But there is that which to His heart comes home
With sorer bitterness than jests so rude
And impious blows of that fierce multitude:
Amid the vassal courts and hall below
The dearly lovéd of His soul e'en now,
His own most dearly lovéd, hath forgot
His Master's very Name—he knows Him not.
