FROM Caiphas to Pilate I was sent, Who judged with unwashed hands a crime to me. Next came the sentence, and the soldiery Claimed me their prey. Without, the people rent With weeping voices the loud firmament. And through the night from town to town passed we Mid shouts and drums and stones hurled heavily By angry crowds on love and murder bent. And last the gaol.—What stillness in these doors! The silent turnkeys their last bolts have shot, And their steps die in the long corridors. I am alone. My tears run fast and hot. Dear Lord, for Thy grief's sake I kiss these floors Kneeling; then turn to sleep, dreams trouble not. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CARPENTER'S SON by SARA TEASDALE TO MY MERE ENGLISH CENSURER by BEN JONSON THE FIRST PROCLAMATION OF MILES STANDISH [NOVEMBER 23, 1620] by MARGARET JUNKIN PRESTON PREPARATORY MEDITATIONS, 1ST SERIES: 32 by EDWARD TAYLOR |