White Brother
Midway between the flaming lines he lay,
A tumbled heap of blood, and sweat, and clay;
—God’s son!
And none could succour him. First this one tried,
Then that... and then another... and they died;
—God’s sons!
Those others saw his plight, and laughed and jeered,
And, at each helper’s fall, laughed more, and cheered;
—God’s sons?
So, through the torture of an endless day,
In agonies that none could ease, he lay;
—God’s son!
Then, as he wrestled for each hard-won breath,
Bleeding his life out, craving only death;—
—God’s son!
—Came One in white, athwart the fiery hail,
And in His hand, a shining cup—The Grail;
—God’s Son!
He knelt beside him on the reeking ground,
And with a touch soothed each hot-throbbing wound;
—God’s Son!
Gave him to drink, and in his failing ear
Whispered sweet words of comfort and good cheer;
—God’s Son!
The suffering one looked up into the face
Of Him whose death to sinners brought God’s grace;
—God’s Son!
The tender brow with unhealed wounds was scarred,
The hand that held The Cup, the nails had marred;
—God’s Son!
“Brother, for thee I suffered greater woes;
As I forgave,—do thou forgive thy foes,
—God’s son!”
“Yea, Lord, as Thou forgavest, I forgive;
And now, my soul unto Thyself receive,
—God’s Son!”
Thick-clustered in the battered trench, amazed,
They gazed at that strange sight... and gazed... and gazed;
—God’s sons!
—The Christ of God, come down to succour one
Of their own number,—their own mate—
—God’s son!
And none who saw that sight will e’er forget
How once, upon the field of death, they met
—God’s Son.
