Classic Poem

With slow and stealthy steps he trod
— The darkening and deserted streets;
— And no one in the market greets
The man upon his way to God.

By night he left the splendid home
— That sheltered many a sleeping guest.
— One and another lay at rest —
The master of the house would roam.

Was there a single soul that knew?
— No! For he feared the eye of scorn,
— The crooked laugh of anger born.
Only the bats about him flew.

The broidered borders of his gown
— He covered o'er, that none might see.
— Shall good come out of Galilee?
This were the mock of all the town.

But in the City named for Peace
— No peace his weary heart had known,
— And ever in the crowd alone
He waged a war that would not cease.

He came by night — and yet he came.
— And He that was Himself the Way
— Shall own him in the Judgment Day,
And to the world confess his name.