Page:Andromeda, and other poems - Kingsley (1858).djvu/128

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SAINT MAURA.
They say that men have slept upon the cross;So why not he? . . . Thanks, Lord! I hear him breathe:And he will preach Thy word to-morrow!—saveSouls, crowds, for Thee! And they will know his worthYears hence—poor things, they know not what they do!—And crown him martyr; and his name will ringThrough all the shores of earth, and all the starsWhose eyes are sparkling through their tears to seeHis triumph—Preacher! Martyr!—Ah—and me?—If they must couple my poor name with his,Let them tell all the truth—say how I loved him,And tried to damn him by that love! O Lord!Returning good for evil! and was thisThe payment I deserved for such a sin?To hang here on my cross, and look at himUntil we kneel before Thy throne in heaven!
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