Bees in Amber, page 29 by John Oxenham
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l along the pathway
Was a track of throbbing light;
Where the Christ had gone His footsteps shone,
Like stars in a velvet night.
'Twas the spent soul of Iscariot
Was like the wind-blown dust,
As nearer still, and near, and near,
He bent and crept, in doubt, and fear,
He came because he must.
'Twas the sick soul of Iscariot
That drew from out the night
And the full of his sin was known to him
In the Shining of the Light.
In the rim of the Light he laid him,
Repented of his sin.
"_I wotted not! I wotted not!
Dear Master, take me in_!"
And as he lay there sorrowing,
Up came the felon crew.
They flailed him with their dead bodies
They heeded not his rue.
They flailed him with their dead bodies,
They heeded not their spleen.
"_I wotted not! I wotted not!
Dear Master, take me in_!"
And then ... a Vision and a Voice,--
And the Word made manifest,--
"_Lay down thy load where I abode,
And I will give thee rest_!
"_And ye,--no more hunt Iscariot!
He repents him of his sin.
And never a soul that repenteth
But he may enter in_.
"_This Day the Door is opened
That shall never close again,
And never a soul that would come in
Shall seek to come in vain_."
And the dead soul of Iscariot
Was born again that night;
For the Lord Christ came dead souls to claim
And lead them into Light.
And the souls of the unburied,
When they looked upon His face,
Were cleansed of sin and entered in
To His redeeming grace.
So, by that wonderful great Love
Which highest heaven extols,--
To Mother Earth their dead bodies,
And unto Christ their souls.
PROFIT AND LOSS
Profit?--Loss?
Who shall declare this good--that ill?--
When good and ill so intertwine
But to fulfil the vast design
Of an Omniscient Will?--
When seeming gain but