"Go quicker, Jesus!" Kartaphilos said, And smote The Prisoner on the head, As He left the Judgment Hall. "I go!" The Christ replied, "But thou ... for that foul blow, -- Linger thou here upon this side, Until I bid thee go!" And so, -- through all centuries since then, Undying, Kartaphilos drags his chain Of lengthening years the wide world over, Weary and fain; Soul-shrunken, life's lamp dim, He craves sweet Death, but all in vain; Death passes by with cold disdain, And will have none of him. Hungering for that which most men dread, He dies not, nor can die, Until the Lord Christ come again To loose his misery. Nought dies -- thought, word, or deed, once given, Lives on and on and makes for hell or heaven. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A HINT FROM THE BEGINNING OF THE THIRD SATIRE OF JUVENAL by PHILIP AYRES FRAGMENTS INTENDED FOR DEATH'S JEST-BOOK: SAD AND CHEERFUL SONGS by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES CATHERINE TO GREGORY, THE POPE by MARY KATE BLAND STRADA'S NIGHTINGALE by VINCENT BOURNE THE WANDERER: 5. IN HOLLAND: A NIGHT IN THE FISHERMAN'S HUT by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |