"Go quicker, Jesus!" Kartaphilos said, And smote The Prisoner on the head, As He left the Judgment Hall. "I go!" The Christ replied, "But thou ... for that foul blow, -- Linger thou here upon this side, Until I bid thee go!" And so, -- through all centuries since then, Undying, Kartaphilos drags his chain Of lengthening years the wide world over, Weary and fain; Soul-shrunken, life's lamp dim, He craves sweet Death, but all in vain; Death passes by with cold disdain, And will have none of him. Hungering for that which most men dread, He dies not, nor can die, Until the Lord Christ come again To loose his misery. Nought dies -- thought, word, or deed, once given, Lives on and on and makes for hell or heaven. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MISS KILMANSEGG AND HER PRECIOUS LEG: HER BIRTH by THOMAS HOOD ROBIN ADAIR by CAROLINE KEPPEL RIDDLE: MAN, STOOL, DOG by MOTHER GOOSE ITYLUS by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE THE SHAVEN BEAUTY by YUSUF IBN HARUN AL-RAMADI THE NONSENSE SAW OF A SAW-GIRL I SAW IN ARKANSAW by FRED W. ALLSOPP A ROW IN AN OMNIBUS BOX; A LEGEND OF THE HAYMARKET by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM |