WAS there not one, when in the upper room The women broke crying, 'He is gone—he is gone,' Who felt beneath a blast of heavier doom His soul go down? Not Peter, royal John, Admirable Thomas, but perhaps unknown Bartholomew, Judas (not Iscariot), Who at the tale of the Rolling of the Stone Knew himself chosen, by a dreadful lot, To grace and strife and immortality, And blessed but perpetual martyrdom, Uttered one last lost cry, 'Ah, not to me!' Even as from air he saw the Arisen come, Nor felt within him the black terror cease Even as around them fell the greeting, 'Peace'? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CAMOMILE TEA by KATHERINE MANSFIELD L.E.L.'S LAST QUESTION by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING THE SPIRES OF OXFORD by WINIFRED MARY LETTS SUMMER DAWN by WILLIAM MORRIS (1834-1896) ON THE DEATH OF LITTLE MAHALA ASHCRAFT by JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY STILL, STILL WITH THEE by HARRIET BEECHER STOWE THE OLD MEN ADMIRING THEMSELVES IN THE WATER by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS STANZAS OCCASIONED BY THE DEATH OF H-- A-- by BERNARD BARTON |