Peter Weeping.
“ O strong in purpose—frail in power,1
Where now the pledge so lately given ?2
Coward—to creatures of an hour ;3
Bold to the challenged bolts of heaven !4
“ Shall that fierce eye e’er pour the stream5
Of heart-wrung tears before its God ?6
Thus did the rock in Horeb seem,7
One moment ere it felt the rod.8
“ But Jesus turns :— mysterious drops9
Before that kindly glance flow fast ;10
So melt the snows from mountain tops,11
When the dark wintry hour is past.12
“ What might it be that glance could
paint ?13
paint ?13
Did one deep-touching impress blend14
The more than sage—the more than
saint—15
saint—15
The more than sympathizing friend ?16
“ Was it, that lightning thought retraced17
Some hallow’d hour beneath the moon ?18
Or walk, or converse high, that graced19
The temple’s column’d shade at noon ?20
“ Say, did that face to memory’s eye,21
With gleams of Tabor’s glory shine ?22
Or did the dews of agony23
Still rest upon that brow divine ?24
“ I know not :— but I know a will25
That, Lord ! might frail as Peter’s be !26
A heart that had denied thee still,27
E’en now—without a look from Thee !”28