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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=355116" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Saint Maura: A.D. 304</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thank God! Those gazers' eyes are gone at last!<br>The guards are crouching underneath the rock;<br>The lights are fading in the town below,<br>Around the cottage which this morn was ours.<br>Kind sun, to set, and leave us here alone;<br>Alone upon our crosses with our God;<br>While all the angels watch us from the stars.<br>Kind moon, to shine so clear and full on him,<br>And bathe his limbs in glory, for a sign<br>Of what awaits him! Oh look on him, Lord!<br>Look, and remember how he saved thy lamb!<br>Oh listen to me, teacher, husband, love,<br>Never till now loved utterly! Oh say,<br>Say you forgive me! No-you must not speak:<br>You said it to me hours ago-long hours!<br>Now you must rest, and when to-morrow comes<br>Speak to the people, call them home to God,<br>A deacon on the Cross, as in the Church;<br>And plead from off the tree with outspread arms,<br>To show them that the Son of God endured<br>For them-and me. Hush! I alone will speak,<br>And while away the hours till dawn for you.<br>I know you have forgiven me; as I lay<br>Beneath your feet, while they were binding me,<br>I knew I was forgiven then! When I cried<br>'Here am I, husband! The lost lamb returned,<br>All re-baptized in blood!' and you said, 'Come!<br>Come to thy bride-bed, martyr, wife once more!'<br>From that same moment all my pain was gone;<br>And ever since those sightless eyes have smiled<br>Love-love! Alas, those eyes! They made me fall.<br>I could not bear to see them, bleeding, dark,<br>Never, no never to look into mine;<br>Never to watch me round the little room<br>Singing about my work, or flash on me<br>Looks bright with counsel.-Then they drove me mad<br>With talk of nameless tortures waiting you-<br>And I could save you! You would hear your love-<br>They knew you loved me, cruel men! And then-<br>Then came a dream; to say one little word,<br>One easy wicked word, we both might say,<br>And no one hear us, but the lictors round;<br>One tiny sprinkle of the incense grains,<br>And both, both free! And life had just begun-<br>Only three months-short months-your wedded wife<br>Only three months within the cottage there-<br>Hoping I bore your child. . . .<br>Ah! husband! Saviour! God! think gently of me!<br>I am forgiven! . . .<br>And then another dream;<br>A flash-so quick, I could not bear the blaze;<br>I could not see the smoke among the light-<br>To wander out through unknown lands, and lead<br>You by the hand through hamlet, port, and town,<br>On, on, until we died; and stand each day<br>To glory in you, as you preached and prayed<br>From rock and bourne-stone, with that voice, those words,<br>Mingled with fire and honey-you would wake,<br>Bend, save whole nations! would not that atone<br>For one short word?-ay, make it right, to save<br>You, you, to fight the battles of the Lord?<br>And so-and so-alas! you knew the rest!<br>You answered me. . . .<br>Ah cruel words! No! Blessed, godlike words.<br>You had done nobly had you struck me dead,<br>Instead of striking me to life!-the temptress! . . .<br>'Traitress! apostate! dead to God and me!'-<br>'The smell of death upon me?'-so it was!<br>True! true! well spoken, hero! Oh they snapped,<br>Those words, my madness, like the angel's voice<br>Thrilling the graves to birth-pangs. All was clear.<br>There was but one right thing in the world to do;<br>And I must do it. . . . Lord, have mercy! Christ!<br>Help through my womanhood: or I shall fail<br>Yet, as I failed before! . . . I could not speak-<br>I could not speak for shame and misery,<br>And terror of my sin, and of the things<br>I knew were coming: but in heaven, in heaven!<br>There we should meet, perhaps-and by that time<br>I might be worthy of you once again-<br>Of you, and of my God. . . . So I went out.<br>. . . . . .<br>Will you hear more, and so forget the pain?<br>And yet I dread to tell you what comes next;<br>Your love will feel it all again for me.<br>No! it is over; and the woe that's dead<br>Rises next hour a glorious angel. Love!<br>Say, shall I tell you? Ah! your lips are dry!<br>To-morrow, when they come, we must entreat,<br>And they will give you water. One to-day,<br>A soldier, gave me water in a sponge<br>Upon a reed, and said, 'Too fair! too young!<br>She might have been a gallant soldier's wife!'<br>And then I cried, 'I am a soldier's wife!<br>A hero's!' And he smiled, but let me drink.<br>God bless him for it!<br>So they led me back:<br>And as I went, a voice was in my ears<br>Which rang through all the sunlight, and the breath<br>And blaze of all the garden slopes below,<br>And through the harvest-voices, and the moan<br>Of cedar-forests on the cliffs above,<br>And round the shining rivers, and the peaks<br>Which hung beyond the cloud-bed of the west,<br>And round the ancient stones about my feet.<br>Out of all heaven and earth it rang, and cried,<br>'My hand hath made all these. Am I too weak<br>To give thee strength to say so?' Then my soul<br>Spread like a clear blue sky within my breast,<br>While all the people made a ring around,<br>And in the midst the judge spoke smilingly-<br>'Well! hast thou brought him to a better mind?'<br>'No! He has brought me to a better mind!'-<br>I cried, and said beside-I know not what-<br>Words which I learnt from thee-I trust in God<br>Nought fierce or rude-for was I not a girl<br>Three months ago beneath my mother's roof?<br>I thought of that. She might be there! I looked-<br>She was not there! I hid my face and wept.<br>And when I looked again, the judge's eye<br>Was on me, cold and steady, deep in thought-<br>'She knows what shame is still; so strip her.' 'Ah!'<br>I shrieked, 'Not that, Sir! Any pain! So young<br>I am-a wife too-I am not my own,<br>But his-my husband's!' But they took my shawl,<br>And tore my tunic off, and there I stood<br>Before them all. . . . Husband! you love me still?<br>Indeed I pleaded! Oh, shine out, kind moon,<br>And let me see him smile! Oh! how I prayed,<br>While some cried 'Shame!' and some, 'She is too young!'<br>And some mocked-ugly words: God shut my ears.<br>And yet no earthquake came to swallow me.<br>While all the court around, and walls, and roofs,<br>And all the earth and air were full of eyes,<br>Eyes, eyes, which scorched my limbs like burning flame,<br>Until my brain seemed bursting from my brow:<br>And yet no earthquake came! And then I knew<br>This body was not yours alone, but God's-<br>His loan-He needed it: and after that<br>The worst was come, and any torture more<br>A change-a lightening; and I did not shriek-<br>Once only-once, when first I felt the whip-<br>It coiled so keen around my side, and sent<br>A fire-flash through my heart which choked me-then<br>I shrieked-that once. The foolish echo rang<br>So far and long-I prayed you might not hear.<br>And then a mist, which hid the ring of eyes,<br>Swam by me, and a murmur in my ears<br>Of humming bees around the limes at home;<br>And I was all alone with you and God.<br>And what they did to me I hardly know;<br>I felt, and did not feel. Now I look back,<br>It was not after all so very sharp:<br>So do not pity me. It made me pray;<br>Forget my shame in pain, and pain in you,<br>And you in God: and once, when I looked down,<br>And saw an ugly sight-so many wounds!<br>'What matter?' thought I. 'His dear eyes are dark;<br>For them alone I kept these limbs so white-<br>A foolish pride! As God wills now. 'Tis just.'<br>But then the judge spoke out in haste: 'She is mad,<br>Or fenced by magic arts! She feels no pain!'<br>He did not know I was on fire within:<br>Better he should not; so his sin was less.<br>Then he cried fiercely, 'Take the slave away,<br>And crucify her by her husband's side!'<br>And at those words a film came on my face-<br>A sickening rush of joy-was that the end?<br>That my reward? I rose, and tried to go-<br>But all the eyes had vanished, and the judge;<br>And all the buildings melted into mist:<br>So how they brought me here I cannot tell-<br>Here, here, by you, until the judgment-day,<br>And after that for ever and for ever!<br>Ah! If I could but reach that hand! One touch!<br>One finger tip, to send the thrill through me<br>I felt but yesterday!-No! I can wait:-<br>Another body!-Oh, new limbs are ready,<br>Free, pure, instinct with soul through every nerve,<br>Kept for us in the treasuries of God.<br>They will not mar the love they try to speak,<br>They will not fail my soul, as these have done!<br>. . . . .<br>Will you hear more? Nay-you know all the rest:<br>Yet those poor eyes-alas! they could not see<br>My waking, when you hung above me there<br>With hands outstretched to bless the penitent-<br>Your penitent-even like The Lord Himself-<br>I gloried in you!-like The Lord Himself!<br>Sharing His very sufferings, to the crown<br>Of thorns which they had put on that dear brow<br>To make you like Him-show you as you were!<br>I told them so! I bid them look on you,<br>And see there what was the highest throne on earth-<br>The throne of suffering, where the Son of God<br>Endured and triumphed for them. But they laughed;<br>All but one soldier, gray, with many scars;<br>And he stood silent. Then I crawled to you,<br>And kissed your bleeding feet, and called aloud-<br>You heard me! You know all! I am at peace.<br>Peace, peace, as still and bright as is the moon<br>Upon your limbs, came on me at your smile,<br>And kept me happy, when they dragged me back<br>From that last kiss, and spread me on the cross,<br>And bound my wrists and ankles-Do not sigh:<br>I prayed, and bore it: and since they raised me up<br>My eyes have never left your face, my own, my own,<br>Nor will, till death comes! . . .<br>Do I feel much pain?<br>Not much. Not maddening. None I cannot bear.<br>It has become like part of my own life,<br>Or part of God's life in me-honour-bliss!<br>I dreaded madness, and instead comes rest;<br>Rest deep and smiling, like a summer's night.<br>I should be easy, now, if I could move . . .<br>I cannot stir. Ah God! these shoots of fire<br>Through all my limbs! Hush, selfish girl! He hears you!<br>Who ever found the cross a pleasant bed?<br>Yes; I can bear it, love. Pain is no evil<br>Unless it conquers us. These little wrists, now-<br>You said, one blessed night, they were too slender,<br>Too soft and slender for a deacon's wife-<br>Perhaps a martyr's:-You forgot the strength<br>Which God can give. The cord has cut them through;<br>And yet my voice has never faltered yet.<br>Oh! do not groan, or I shall long and pray<br>That you may die: and you must not die yet.<br>Not yet-they told us we might live three days . . .<br>Two days for you to preach! Two days to speak<br>Words which may wake the dead!<br>. . . . .<br>Hush! is he sleeping?<br>They say that men have slept upon the cross;<br>So why not he? . . . Thanks, Lord! I hear him breathe:<br>And he will preach Thy word to-morrow!-save<br>Souls, crowds, for Thee! And they will know his worth<br>Years hence-poor things, they know not what they do!-<br>And crown him martyr; and his name will ring<br>Through all the shores of earth, and all the stars<br>Whose eyes are sparkling through their tears to see<br>His triumph-Preacher! Martyr!-Ah-and me?-<br>If they must couple my poor name with his,<br>Let them tell all the truth-say how I loved him,<br>And tried to damn him by that love! O Lord!<br>Returning good for evil! and was this<br>The payment I deserved for such a sin?<br>To hang here on my cross, and look at him<br>Until we kneel before Thy throne in heaven!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Eversley, 1852.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Charles+Kingsley">Charles Kingsley</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=355116" data-title="Saint Maura: A.D. 304 de Charles Kingsley" data-description="Thank God! Those gazers' eyes are gone at last!
The guards are crouching underneath the rock;
The lights are fading in the town below,
Around the cottage which this morn was ours.
Kind sun, to set, and leave us here alone;
Alone upon our crosses w..."></div>
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