ISCARIOT, thou grey-grown beast of blood. Stand forth to plead; stand, while red drops run here And there down fingers shaken with foul fear, Down the sick shivering chin that stooped and sued, Bowed to the bosom, for a little food At Herod's hand, who smites thee cheek and ear. Cry out, Iscariot; haply he will hear; Cry, till he turn again to do thee good. Gather thy gold up, Judas, all thy gold, And buy thee death; no Christ is here to sell, But the dead earth of poor men bought and sold, While year heaps year above thee safe in hell, To grime thy grey dishonourable head With dusty shame, when thou art damned and dead. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE DESERTED GARDEN by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING CONTENTMENT, AFTER THE MANNER OF HORACE by CHARLES STUART CALVERLEY AT CASTERBRIDGE FAIR: 7. AFTER THE FAIR by THOMAS HARDY IN TENEBRIS: 2 by THOMAS HARDY NEURASTENIA by AGNES MARY F. ROBINSON MONNA INNOMINATA, A SONNET OF SONNETS: 1 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI AMORETTI: 37 by EDMUND SPENSER ODES: BOOK 1: ODE 17. ON A SERMON AGAINST GLORY by MARK AKENSIDE |