Classic Poem

Now it befell, while the yoke was a-mending,
A master thief to his task was bending:
Hid by the tail of the treasure cart,
A brazen lock he had pried apart
On the chest where the harlot's gems were stored.
No time had he to filch a hoard,
But the jewel his hand clutched, that took he,
And sped for a place of secrecy.
Flat he lay in the ripened corn,
Till the train of the Magdalene should be gone,
And sliding the jewel from his breast,
Gloated upon it with lustful zest,
And oaths of marvelling. Well he might!
For Solomon had not for his delight
A bauble wrought more cunningly
With jasper, sapphire, chalcedony,
Sardius, sardonyx and chrysolyte,
Rubies, opals, diamonds white,
Chrysoprase, beryl, topaz and pearls,
Amethyst, jacinth. . . . The rogue's head whirls,
Merely to gaze on a thing so rare,
This bird of gems for a harlot's hair.
But as he reckoned the joys 'twould buy,
There spake to him from close anigh,
A sweet voice full of gentilesse,
" Good-morrow, friend, and God thee bless. "
The thief's hand to his dagger went,
But all on a sudden his wrath was spent,
For through those dark eyes still and clear
That held him, he felt Jehovah peer.
And the hair of his flesh began to stir,
And his blood to chill, and his heart to whirr,
" What wouldst thou with me? " he muttered low.
" That beautiful thing that shineth so, "
The lad said smiling, " Of your grace
I would like to hold it a little space. "
Then marvelling at his own consent,
The thief laid the priceless ornament
In those little hands so tender and slim,
And stood there humbly watching him.
The boy gazed down with dreamy eyes:
" Once in a vision of Paradise,
I saw the Holy City drest
Like a bride adorned for the bridegroom's breast,
And her walls with precious stones were laid
Like unto these I hold, " he said.
" Strange that I should see them now
In a bauble wrought for a sinner's brow. "
The thief brake out in a sweat of fear,
And his thought it clamoured grim and clear:
" Naught is there from this suckling hid,
He knoweth all things I ever did. "
But e'en as he trembled, the little lad
Turned with a countenance gay and glad:
" What if this bird should fly and sing?
Were not that a marvelous thing? "
" Poor babe, he's away in his head, " thought the thief,
But he smirkled with guile and made belief: —
" To behold a miracle such as that,
I'd walk to the top of Ararat! "
Then the boy breathed soft for a little time
On the jewel, chanting a childish rhyme:
" Pretty bird! Pretty bird! Fly away home,
Your brothers are lonely, your sisters roam! "
Now till the stars like figs are shed,
At the ultimate blast of the trumpet dread,
No man a wonder more wild shall see,
Or a thing of lovelier glamourie.
For that bird of gold and jewels made
Quivered all as though afraid,
Quivered all, and stirred and quaked
As though from sleep it had awaked;
Opened its crest, and eyes of beryl
Timidly peering for hidden peril;
Parted its jasper beak in amaze,
Spread its wings of chrysoprase,
Then, with a clear, sweet, starry cry,
Out and up and away did fly.
The thief he shuddered where he stood,
As though he hung on the bitter rood,
Then cast himself the ground along:
" Be merciful as thou art strong! "
But the other lifted him up again,
And quenched his fear, and soothed his pain,
And kindled hope in his eyes forlore.
" The lady will have one jewel more,
And thou one sin the less, " smiled he,
" For the life I lent will vanished be,
When the bird thou'st stolen is safe in its nest,
Ere the steward of Magdalene make a quest.
But I charge thee, tell no man what thou hast seen,
For my time it is not yet, I ween. "
The thief gazed on him with troubled mien:
" Art thou a thing of flesh and bones,
That thou canst quicken precious stones? "
" Nay, I but do my Father's will, "
The lad saith, gently smiling still.
" I have flesh and bones as thou hast, — See. "
And he held out his two hands brown and wee,
For the thief to touch them and be content.
The poor rogue strived with his grief up-pent:
" If I'd had a brother like to thee,
I'd ne'er have ta'en to this knavery!
But thou comest too late; I know full well,
For my many sins I must fare to hell. "
The lad looked on him with ruth and love,
" Nay, the Spirit whispereth from above,
And it saith that we shall fare together
To Paradise, poor thief — and brother! "
Then turned the thief with a laugh and a groan,
When he turned him again he was alone.
He asked of a waggoner passing slow,
" Good stranger, dost thou chance to know
A wondrous lad with eyes of heaven,
That make thee deem thy sins are shriven? "
" Aye, verily, " the waggoner smiled,
" 'Twould be Mary and Joseph's darling child,
No dearer and goodlier e'er drew breath,
Than little Jesus of Nazareth. "