The Complete Poetical Works of Robert Buchanan :: :: University of Virginia Library

Methought I stood upon an open Plain
Beyond the City, and before my face
Rose, with mad surges thundering at its base,
A mountain like Golgotha; and the waves
That surgèd round its sunless cliffs and caves
Were human—countless swarms of Quick and Dead!

Then, while the fire-flaught flickered over-head,
I saw the Phantoms of Golgotha throng
Around that ancient Man, who trailed along
A woeful Cross of Wood; and as He went,
His body bruisèd and His raiment rent,
His bare feet bleeding and His force outworn,
They pricked Him on with spears and laughed in scorn,
Shouting, ‘At last Thy Judgment Day hath come!’
And when He faltered breathless, faint, and dumb,
And stumbled on His face amid the snows,
They dragged Him up and drave Him on with blows
To that black Mountain!

Then my soul was 'ware
Of One who silent sat in Judgment there
Shrouded and spectral; lonely as a cloud
He loomed above the surging and shrieking crowd.
Human he seemed, and yet his eyeballs shone
From fleshless sockets of a Skeleton,
And from the shroud around him darkly roll'd
He pointed with a fleshless hand and cold
At those who came, and, in a voice that thrill'd
The tumult at his feet till it was still'd,
Cried:

‘Back, ye Waters of Humanity!
Wait and be silent. Leave this man to me.
The centuries of his weary watch have pass'd,
And lo! the Judgment Time is ripe at last.
Stand up, thou Man whom men would doom to death,
And speak thy Name!’

‘Jesus of Nazareth!’
Answer'd the Man.

And as He spake His name,
The multitude with thunderous acclaim

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Shriek'd.

But again the solemn voice, which thrill'd
The tumult and the wrath till they were still'd,
Cried: ‘Peace, ye broken hearts, have patience yet!
This man is surely here to pay his debt
To Death and Time.’

And to the man he said:
‘Jesus of Nazareth, lift up thy head
And hearken! Brought to face Eternity
By men, thy brethren, form'd of flesh like thee,
Brough there by men to me, the Spirit of Man,
To answer for thy deeds since life began,
Brought hither to Golgotha, whereupon
Thyself wast crucified in days long gone,
Thou shalt be judged and hear thy judgment spoken
Before the World whose slumbers thou hast broken.
Thou saidst, “I have fought with Death and am the stronger!
Wake to Eternal Life and sleep no longer!”
And men, thy brethren, troubled by thy crying,
Have rush'd from Death to seek the Life undying,
And men have anguish'd, wearied out with waiting
For the great unknown Father of thy creating,
And now for vengeance on thy head they gather,
Crying, “Death reigns! There is no God— no Father!”’

He ceased, and Jesus spake not, but was mute
In woe supreme and pity absolute.

Then calmly amid the shadows of the Throne
Another awful shrouded Skeleton,
Human yet more than human, rose his height,
With baleful eyes of wild and wistful light,
And said:
‘O Judge, Death reigned since Time began,
Sov'ran of Life and Change! and ere this Man
Came with his lying dreams to break our rest
The reign of Death was beautiful and blest;
But now within the flesh of men there grows
The poison of a Dream that slays repose,
The trouble of a mirage in the air
That turneth into terror and despair;
So that the Master of the World, ev'n Death,
Hated in his own kingdom, travaileth
In darkness, creeping haunted and afraid,
Like any mortal thing, from shade to shade,
From tomb to tomb; and ever where he flies
The seed of men shrink with averted eyes,
And call with mad yet unavailing woe
On this Man and his God to lay Death low.
Wherefore the Master of the Quick and Dead
Demandeth doom and justice on the head
Of him, this Jew, who hath usurp'd the throne
The Lord of flesh claims ever for his own.
This Jew hath made the Earth that once was glad
A lazar-house of woeful men and mad
Who can yet will not sleep, and in their strife
For barren glory and eternal Life,
Have rent each other, murmuring his Name!’

He paused—and from the listening host there came
Tumult nor voice—there was no sound, no stir,
But all was hushèd as a death-chamber;
And while that pallid shrouded Skeleton
In a low voice like funeral bells spake on,
From heart to heart a nameless horror ran.