THEY bore me away from the happy flock And away from the hill slopes green, Away from the midday shade of trees And waters cool and clean. And here, where the Mounts of Moab close The East with a purple rim And the sky is a bowl of spilling fire, Mine eyes in death wax dim. They led me forth with austere joy And the psalter's solemn sound, And about my newly-budded horns A scarlet fillet wound; And they say that I pay for a People's sins, Who burn with thirst and die— But whether the tale be true or no, God only knows, not I. But, however it be, I wonder why They led me forth, accurst, Who, of all the hillside-clamb'ring flock, Was neither best nor worst; And was it really the Will of God That brought me here to die Where the Salt Sea stinks, and the salt marsh reeks, And the dead reeds rustle dry? Yes, why should they lead me, me, of all, To the desert sick with drought? ... I have dreamed, three nights, 'neath fiery stars, That green grass filled my mouth,— Where the Salt Sea stinks, and the salt marsh reeks, And the dead reeds rustle dry, I have dreamed, three nights, of a stream that sweeps In a sheet of silver by. ... O, I wonder if it be true or no That the good Lord @3did@1 decree That the sins of a People could be cleansed By the death of one like me! ... For why should I, who have done no wrong, For the sins of others die With a scarlet fillet about my horns?— God only knows, not I! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LOVER IN HELL by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET NEW YEAR'S EVE by DAVID IGNATOW MAGDALEN by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON SIMON SURNAMED PETER by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: ALBERT SCHIRDING by EDGAR LEE MASTERS TO A MAN WORKING HIS WAY THROUGH THE CROWD by MARIANNE MOORE |