For days and nights he wandered on,
Upon an open plain,
And the days went by like blinding mist,
And the nights like rushing rain.
For days and nights he wandered on
All through the Wood of Woe;
And the nights went by like the moaning wind
And the days like drifting snow.
'Twas the soul of Judas Iscariot
Came with a weary face—
Alone, alone, and all alone,
Alone in a lonely place!
He wandered east and he wandered west,
And heard no human sound;
For months and years in grief and tears,
He wandered round and round.
For months and years, in grief and tears,
He walked the silent night,
Then the soul of Judas Iscariot
Perceived a far-off light.
A far-off light across the waste,
As dim as dim might be,
That came and went like a lighthouse gleam,
On a black night at sea.
'Twas the soul of Judas Iscariot,
Crawled to the distant gleam,
And the rain came down, and the rain was blown
Against him with a scream.
For days and nights he wandered on,
Pushed on by hands unseen,
And the days went by like black, black rain,
And the nights like rushing rain.
'Twas the soul of Judas Iscariot,
Strange and sad and tall,
Stood all alone at the dead of night,
Before a lighted hall.
And all the wold was white with snow,
And his foot-marks black and damp,
And the ghost of the silver Moon arose,
Holding her yellow lamp.