Then Mother Mary bent to her,
Bent from her place by God's left side,
And whispered: "Peace--do I not know?--
My son was crucified!"
"O Mother Mary," answered she,
"You cannot, cannot enter in
To my soul's woe--you cannot know--
For your son wrought no sin!"
(And men whose work compelled them there,
Their hearts were stricken dead;
They heard the rope creak on the beam;
I thought I heard the frightened ghost
Whimpering overhead.)
The mother by the gallows-tree,
The gallows-tree, the gallows-tree,
Lifted to Christ her broken heart
And called in agony.
Then Lord Christ bent to her and said:
"Be comforted, be comforted;
I know your grief; the whole world's woe
I bore upon my head."
"But O Lord Christ, you cannot know,
No one can know," she said, "no one"--
(While the quivering corpse swayed in the wind)--
"Lord Christ, no one can understand
Who never had a son!"
IN THE BAYOU
LAZY and slow, through the snags and trees
Move the sluggish currents, half asleep;
Around and between the cypress knees,
Like black, slow snakes the dark tides creep--
How deep is the bayou beneath the trees?
"Knee-deep,
Knee-deep,
Knee-deep,
Knee-deep!"
Croaks the big bullfrog of Reelfoot Lake
From his hiding-place in the draggled brake.
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