They struck at him with their bodies,
They cursed him for his sin,
They made to tear his dumb soul there,
With their fingers long and lean.
And Judas fled in his horror,
With that fell crew behind,
And as they sped the people said
Death rode upon the wind.
They chased him near, they chased him far,
Because of his treachery,
And ever he just escaped their lust,
And ever they were nigh.
They chased him near, they chased him far,
And ever they were nigh,
And never a star shone out on them
Out of the cold black sky.
And as they sped by Calvary,
There were empty crosses three,—
And on the ground, below the mound,
Lay one in agony.
"Three times I swore I knew Him not,
And then—He looked on me.
Ah, such a look!—no harshest word
Had ever proved so sharp a sword
To my inconstancy.
"Three times I did deny Thee, Lord!
And yet, thou couldst forgive,
Now am I thine—in life, in death;
Thee will I serve with every breath,
While I have breath to give."
They sped by an open window,
Where one knelt all alone,
In great amaze, in greater grief,
In woe that wrestled with belief,
The Mother mourned her Son.
"My son, I knew thee more than man,—
Ah me!—and the heart of me!
Yet, man in God, and God in man,
Still wast thou part of me.
"The nails through thy dear hands and feet,—
Ah me! they pierced my own.
The thorns that on thy brow they plied,—
The spear they drove into thy side,—
The pangs thy Godhead could not hide,—
They pierced me too, my son.