Before the lashes of scorn and the chains,
The dungeons, before the scowls and sneers;
Before the wrath of the priest, the temple’s
Bolted door for our hunger, tears.
Before the delight we sell is stale
As the steps of a dancer, growing old.
All is delight, kisses and dancing—
Men can buy, for they have the gold.
And we, he says, shall enter heaven
Before the priests and the elders do.
Why do we enter? Because as sorrow,
Poverty, humbleness, we are true.
Without pretense or pride. We are children
Who have shirked the task, but repent the sin.
But they, the elders and priests have promised
To work for heaven and never begin.
Why do we enter, save spite of our craft
To wheedle with lies we all stand forth
Known to the world as painted harlots,
Taken by no one over our worth?
And it’s good to enter, if we can be
With Jesus and John, and given reprieve
From priests and elders who run the city
And hound the harlots who see and believe.
JOHN IN PRISON
(St. Luke, Chapter XVI. St. Matthew, Chapter XI.)
John said to the jailer: “Where are my disciples? Befriend
My grief and my doubt, and entreat them to come, to the end
That they ask him for me if we look for another, or deem,
As I did, that this prophet shall save and fulfill and redeem.”