Jesus hath spoken on her side,
Those cruel men withstood!
From him her shame she will not hide!
For him she will be good!
He rose; he saw the temple bare;
They two are left alone!
He said unto her, "Woman, where
Are thine accusers gone?"
"Hath none condemned thee?" "Master, no,"
She answers, trembling sore.
"Neither do I condemn thee. Go,
And sin not any more."
She turned and went.—To hope and grieve?
Be what she had not been?
We are not told; but I believe
His kindness made her clean.
Our sins to thee us captive hale—
Ambitions, hatreds dire;
Cares, fears, and selfish loves that fail,
And sink us in the mire:
Our captive-cries with pardon meet;
Our passion cleanse with pain;
Lord, thou didst make these miry feet—
Oh, wash them clean again!
XIV.
MARTHA.
With joyful pride her heart is high:
Her humble house doth hold
The man her nation's prophecy
Long ages hath foretold!
Poor, is he? Yes, and lowly born:
Her woman-soul is proud
To know and hail the coming morn
Before the eyeless crowd.