To-day I was at Milan, in such thought As pilgrims bring who at faith's threshold stand, Still burdened with the sorrows they have brought, And vexed with stranger tongues in a strange land. And lo, this sign was given me. At my hand Hung that mysterious supper Vinci wrought With the sad twelve who were Christ's chosen band, A type of vows and courage come to nought. And, while I gazed, with a reproachful look The bread was broken and the wine was poured, And the disciples raised their hands and spoke, Each asking "Is it I? and I too? Lord!" And there was answered them this mournful cry: "All shall abandon me to-night." So I. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HALF-WAKING by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM FIDELITY by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH EDONI: THE WORSHIP OF COTYS by AESCHYLUS PSALM 84 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE THE DEMON DAWN by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE A CHRONICLE by WILLIAM STANLEY BRAITHWAITE |