Untitled (He said: “Art thou the Son of God?”)
He said: "Art thou the Son of God? expecting
"Thou has said it -" or some such words
From a humble man ashamed to admit
That he too would shoot down Pleasure's singing birds.
But I took my heart in my hands and showed it
Constricted by selfish muscles and I denied
That I was prepared to die for the sins of men
And he tore the dust of death that was his hair and said I lied.
"He's great, he's God" he ran through the streets telling
Everybody that would listen. I was enticed
To accept. But I dashed over the hills when they hammered the cross -
The Christ that won't die is a mean Christ.
Out beyond Calvary I found myself a house
And lived there in comfort. But I could hear
Often on summer evenings from the deserts of the heart
Of man the cry for the blood of God's own Son