THE THRONE OF THE KING

By Francis Clement Kelley

The sun was setting, and its golden glowDeepened the shadows on the village street,And reverent touched the beauty of the headOf Him who sat, in thought, beside the wellOf Nazareth. Two women came to fillTheir earthen jars; and sent their burdens downTo where the water lay; then drew them up.But still the Boy, unmoved, gazed steadilyUpon the distant hills, that girded roundJerusalem, the City of the Soul.His eyes were deep as some unfathomed sea,That tosses wreckage on its billowed crest;But hides its treasures ever in the caves,That men shall never touch, or touching die.“How strange the Boy,” one woman softly saidAs back they went, their burdens on their heads.“Yet He is Joseph’s Son,” the other spoke,“And Joseph is my neighbor, a just man;But not more lettered than the other men,Your own and mine. He is not priest nor scribeThat he could teach such wisdom to his Son.And it doth sometimes seem the Boy is wiseBeyond His years, with knowledge overmuch.”“His mother, whom I know,” her friend replied,“As Mary, sweeps the shavings from the floor,Cooks the poor fare for Joseph and her Son,Cares for the water, and her jar brings hereAs we do every day, who know not muchBeyond the things we hear from holy men.Yet strange is Mary too; I know not whereTo match the peace that’s on her tranquil brow;Though, through it all, I’ve seen the Shadow thereThe dread of days to come, though all resigned.So like His mother is this only SonIn beauty, in the peace that’s on His face;But sometimes, deeper still, the Shadow fallsAcross His features. Look! behold it now.For it doth speak the dread of awful things,More awful than the ruin of a world!”A-down the street there rang a clatter loudOf horses dashing in a maddened run,And sounds of wheels swift rolling on the pave.The women shrank affrighted to the wall,And cowered there in trembling, mortal fear.In view the charging horses passed alongStraight to the well, no driver grasped the reins,For he had fallen to the stony street.Yet never moved the Boy, nor turned His eyesFrom off the hills that held them so intent.But from a doorway rushed a stranger ladWho grasped the bit of one, and held him fast.The others, panting, stopped so near the BoyThat, on His face He must have felt the heatWhich steaming rose from their perspiring flanks,As now they stood, foam-flecked and trembling by.The driver came and meekly murmured thanks,Before he led his charges back againTo where his master waited for the steeds.“He gave me naught but words, and I did saveThe steeds. The chariot, too, would have been dashedAll broken on the stones, had I not come.”The lad was angered, but the Boy moved not,Though from the distant hills His gaze was drawn.“Dost thou not know,” the lad said, wonderingly,“How near was Death to thee a moment since?”The Boy, now fully aroused, smiled at the ladAll kindly, as a loving father smilesUpon his child that waked him unaware,Whose sleep nor storm nor clatter could affect,Yet at the touch of little baby handsOpens wide his eyes, that twinkle joyfully.“No nearer to grim Death,” the Boy replied,“Was I than thou, my friend, art near it now.Thou seekest Joseph and hast wandered farFrom distant Jaffa, where thy father died.Thou’rt Fidus named. From Joseph thou wouldst learnThe craftsman’s art, and how to handle toolsTo work with wood, that thou thyself may’st beLike him, a craftsman skilled in his own trade.”“A prophet Thou!” the lad in wonder cried.“Come with me,” made He answer. “I am knownAs Joseph’s Son; so I will speak for thee.”As evening fell on Nazareth’s burning streetEach day these two would wander out alone;And by the well, or in a quiet gladeSeated, would hold their talk, with none to hear.Yet converse scarce it was; with ears intent,Fidus did always listen, while the BoyPoured out a tale of Kings and Prophets old;Of marvels that they worked to testifyUnto a King whom yet the earth would see,A King of all Judea and the world;Whose glory, mounting even to the starsWould dim with rich effulgence, their great light.The Sun of Justice He, the Moon of nightThat had for ages settled o’er the earth.He told of wonders that the King would doBefore He mounted to His mighty throne.He told of love surpassing every loveThat earth had seen, and of His Kingdom wide;Till all on fire Fidus hung’red to seeThe King Himself, and worship at His throne.“A Roman though I am,” he oft would cry,“Thy King I’d welcome and for Him I’d serve.”“Yet thou art craftsman and no soldier thou.”“A craftsman too can serve his loyal due.”“How wouldst thou serve?” the Boy inquiring spoke.“When Joseph bids me go, that I can learn no more,This I can do—to build for Him His throne.”The Shadow swept across the boyish face—The Shadow Fidus once had seen before;And he was silent, for in awe he stoodWhen that mysterious shade shut off the lightThat shone out from the radiant brow.The Shadow was not fear, nor dread of death;But dread of something worse than death could bring.It was as if a lily, broken, bent,But yet unsullied, now was stained with filthBy impious hand; more cruel far than deathThe marring of the whiteness death had spared:Or like a stream, that through its mountain bedHad raced unfettered, toward the amber sea,And o’er the rapids and the pebbles dashedClear, cold and placid when the mouth is reached;Then, death unfeared before it, ready nowTo give back to the ocean all it gave,Into its pureness poured a stream so darkThat tainted all its life, when life was lost.’Twas thus the Shadow seemed; but soon it passed,And smiling boyhood turned a happy faceThe while he said: “So thou wouldst build His throne?But dost thou know the form that throne will take?”“’T will be a throne,” Fidus replied, “so highThat all may see Him, while from it He reigns,And know that He has come unto His own.”“Aye,” quick the Boy made answer, “it shall beUplifted high that every man may see;Not Jews alone but even ye of Rome;And men from Britain too, on farthest shoreOf Rome’s great Empire: they shall see and knowThe King who reigns upon that living throne;And in the Islands of unchartered seasThe King shall lifted be, that all may know;And worlds still undiscovered shall bow downTo do Him homage, yet shall hate His name.For homage goes with hate, and hate will beThe measure of the homage that shall swellIn pæans great around the royal throne.”Fidus looked wond’ring at the Boy Who spoke,As if the right to build the throne were HisAnd He could give it to the friend who askedThis only boon, as pledge of love untold.“And I would build it strong so it could goO’er sea and land, and last for aye and aye.”“So thou wouldst build the throne?” again the BoyHalf musing spoke. Across His face once moreThe Shadow fell; and, as he stood, His handsHe lifted up and out, as if in prayer.Another Shadow fell upon the ground,The arms and body strangely like a Cross.Fidus was silent till the prayer was done.The sun now set, and all the shadows passed.They, arm in arm, ran fast to Joseph’s house.But, at the door they paused and, said the Boy:“Thou must remember ever this thy dayWhen I the promise gave that I can keep,For thou shalt build His throne!”The years passed on,And Fidus to the Roman hosts returnedWhere, welcomed as a soldier’s clever son,He wrought in wood for all the legions thereIn Jaffa, where his father had been killed.For eighteen years he stayed beside the seaAnd, working at the trade that Joseph taught,He never once forgot the precious pledgeThe Boy had made. But never saw nor heardAught of his friend. Then he was sent awayBy Pilate’s call, unto Jerusalem.The evening of the day when he arrivedGreat turmoil swept along the Jaffa road,And near the Gate of Gardens, where the hillCalled Calvary lifted up its rocky head.He heard the crowds discuss a Wonder-ManThe priests had taken, and was on His wayTo judgment. “Out on such a King,” cried one,“Himself He can not save from shameful death.To-morrow’s sun will see Him lifted upAbove the hill, and throw the Shadow ofA Cross upon you fools who thought Him King.”And on the faces dark of all around,Fidus saw Hate he could not understand.Then up a vision rose of NazarethWhen evening fell; a Boy of beauty rare,With a strange Shadow on His lovely face,Standing with arms outstretched in prayer,The glory of the setting sun upon His head.But long and grim the shadow of a CrossBefore Him as He stood. Then to his mindCame swift the stories of the mighty King,And then the promise: “Thou shalt build His throne.”Alas! the long and wav’ring years had sweptThe dreams of youth away; but still remainedThe love, that hungered now to feel the handWithin his own of Mary’s Son. The dayRose brightly in the East. At Pilate’s doorHe met by chance a captain he had knownIn Jaffa, who bade him attentive waitWithin the hall, amongst the soldiers there.But soon a tumult rose without the doors;The Wonder-Man was coming to be judged.Then, as the cries increased, his friend came in.“Make thou a Cross,” he said, “We have but twoAnd, if I judge aright, three shall be sentBeyond the wall this day to Calvary.”No more of shouting Fidus heard, for heAlone made ready a great Cross of wood;And, that his craftsman skill should be confessed,He made it well, both strong and workmanlike.“’Tis fit,” he said, “to serve a King,” and smiledAt his grim jest; then went he on his way.Out in the streets the crowd was surging onAlong the way that leads to Calvary’s hill.And o’er it Fidus saw his Cross; and then,Sometimes, a thorn-crowned head with waving hairBlood-clotted now, and stained a deeper hue;And Hate seemed in the air vibrating round.When sudden, like a bell that sweetly ringsAbove a storm, and seems a messengerOf Peace and Love, there woke upon his soulFrom out the sleeping past, some prophet words:“For homage goes with hate, and hate shall beThe measure of the homage that shall swellIn pæans great around the royal throne.”The surging crowd hid from his eyes the thingsHe did not care to see, but faint he heardThe hammer strokes, that seemed to drive the nailsDeep in his heart. Then turned he to a manWho silent stood beside him, and he said:“A stranger I, from Jaffa, yesternightI came. This man? What evil hath He done?”“I know not any wrong that He hath done,”Came answer fast. “I only know the goodThat He had wrought. Behold my eyes that see!Once they were dark. He passed me by one dayAnd loud I cried: ‘O Son of David, mercy showThat I may see.’ He touched me and I saw.”Another silent man near Fidus stood,To him he spoke, “And friend, what knowest thou?”“I know that now I live though I was dead;For I had gone into the ending tombAll spiced for rest and bound with linen bands;And He did come, and He did call me forth.I heard His voice that sounded far away,As if I stood within a valley deep,And some one, from the mountain crest,Kept calling me. Then clearer was the Voice;As if on wings, I soared aloft to Him,Who had the Power to bid me come or stay.Again my heart did beat and vital bloodSurged through my wid’ning veins. I lived again.”Then Fidus quick recalled a wondrous thing:He saw the Boy in Joseph’s little shop,A sick lamb refuged in His tender arms.He gently stroked the lamb and then the painWas gone from out its piteous pleading eyes.And, lo, the man felt hot tears on his cheeks.The Cross was raised, and faint the outline stood’Twixt Fidus and the lurid, murky skyThat threatened from afar a terror dark.Then swift it came, for all of darkness dreadThat air could hold, fell down upon the earth.The stumbling crowd in panic slunk away;But Fidus groped through darkness to the Cross.He heard a moan of sorrow. Well he knewThe voice of Mary, she of Joseph’s house.His heart stood still; the Vision came again:That evening fair—the Boy—the distant hills—The Shadow of the Cross upon the earthAs He stood silent all absorbed in prayer—The promise that himself should build a throne.“Aye,” so the Boy had said, “for it shall beRaised up on high that every man may see,Not Jews alone, but even ye of Rome;And men from Britain too, on farthest shoreOf Rome’s great Empire: they shall see and knowThe King Who reigns upon that living throne;And, in the Islands of uncharted seasThe King shall lifted be that all may know;And worlds still undiscovered shall bow downTo do Him homage, yet shall hate His name.For homage goes with hate, and hate will beThe measure of the homage that shall swellIn pæans great around His royal throne.”A lightning flash! The rocks asunder rent,The tombs burst open and the dead arose.One moment Fidus saw the CrucifiedEre darkness fell again around the Cross.But in that moment a new vision rose;He saw the hill rise high, and higher still,Till over all the mountains of the worldIt towering stood; and nations, worshippingGazed on a mighty throne that bore a King!Blood red the jewels in His crown of thorns,With ermined pain that wrapped Him all about,Deep in His hands the orb and sceptre nails,Quite gone the Shadow of the primal sinAnd, on His brow, fulfilled the ancient pledgeOf Earth’s Redemption.

The sun was setting, and its golden glow

Deepened the shadows on the village street,

And reverent touched the beauty of the head

Of Him who sat, in thought, beside the well

Of Nazareth. Two women came to fill

Their earthen jars; and sent their burdens down

To where the water lay; then drew them up.

But still the Boy, unmoved, gazed steadily

Upon the distant hills, that girded round

Jerusalem, the City of the Soul.

His eyes were deep as some unfathomed sea,That tosses wreckage on its billowed crest;But hides its treasures ever in the caves,That men shall never touch, or touching die.“How strange the Boy,” one woman softly saidAs back they went, their burdens on their heads.“Yet He is Joseph’s Son,” the other spoke,“And Joseph is my neighbor, a just man;But not more lettered than the other men,Your own and mine. He is not priest nor scribeThat he could teach such wisdom to his Son.And it doth sometimes seem the Boy is wiseBeyond His years, with knowledge overmuch.”“His mother, whom I know,” her friend replied,“As Mary, sweeps the shavings from the floor,Cooks the poor fare for Joseph and her Son,Cares for the water, and her jar brings hereAs we do every day, who know not muchBeyond the things we hear from holy men.Yet strange is Mary too; I know not whereTo match the peace that’s on her tranquil brow;Though, through it all, I’ve seen the Shadow thereThe dread of days to come, though all resigned.So like His mother is this only SonIn beauty, in the peace that’s on His face;But sometimes, deeper still, the Shadow fallsAcross His features. Look! behold it now.For it doth speak the dread of awful things,More awful than the ruin of a world!”

His eyes were deep as some unfathomed sea,

That tosses wreckage on its billowed crest;

But hides its treasures ever in the caves,

That men shall never touch, or touching die.

“How strange the Boy,” one woman softly said

As back they went, their burdens on their heads.

“Yet He is Joseph’s Son,” the other spoke,

“And Joseph is my neighbor, a just man;

But not more lettered than the other men,

Your own and mine. He is not priest nor scribe

That he could teach such wisdom to his Son.

And it doth sometimes seem the Boy is wise

Beyond His years, with knowledge overmuch.”

“His mother, whom I know,” her friend replied,

“As Mary, sweeps the shavings from the floor,

Cooks the poor fare for Joseph and her Son,

Cares for the water, and her jar brings here

As we do every day, who know not much

Beyond the things we hear from holy men.

Yet strange is Mary too; I know not where

To match the peace that’s on her tranquil brow;

Though, through it all, I’ve seen the Shadow there

The dread of days to come, though all resigned.

So like His mother is this only Son

In beauty, in the peace that’s on His face;

But sometimes, deeper still, the Shadow falls

Across His features. Look! behold it now.

For it doth speak the dread of awful things,

More awful than the ruin of a world!”

A-down the street there rang a clatter loudOf horses dashing in a maddened run,And sounds of wheels swift rolling on the pave.The women shrank affrighted to the wall,And cowered there in trembling, mortal fear.In view the charging horses passed alongStraight to the well, no driver grasped the reins,For he had fallen to the stony street.Yet never moved the Boy, nor turned His eyesFrom off the hills that held them so intent.But from a doorway rushed a stranger ladWho grasped the bit of one, and held him fast.The others, panting, stopped so near the BoyThat, on His face He must have felt the heatWhich steaming rose from their perspiring flanks,As now they stood, foam-flecked and trembling by.The driver came and meekly murmured thanks,Before he led his charges back againTo where his master waited for the steeds.“He gave me naught but words, and I did saveThe steeds. The chariot, too, would have been dashedAll broken on the stones, had I not come.”The lad was angered, but the Boy moved not,Though from the distant hills His gaze was drawn.“Dost thou not know,” the lad said, wonderingly,“How near was Death to thee a moment since?”

A-down the street there rang a clatter loud

Of horses dashing in a maddened run,

And sounds of wheels swift rolling on the pave.

The women shrank affrighted to the wall,

And cowered there in trembling, mortal fear.

In view the charging horses passed along

Straight to the well, no driver grasped the reins,

For he had fallen to the stony street.

Yet never moved the Boy, nor turned His eyes

From off the hills that held them so intent.

But from a doorway rushed a stranger lad

Who grasped the bit of one, and held him fast.

The others, panting, stopped so near the Boy

That, on His face He must have felt the heat

Which steaming rose from their perspiring flanks,

As now they stood, foam-flecked and trembling by.

The driver came and meekly murmured thanks,

Before he led his charges back again

To where his master waited for the steeds.

“He gave me naught but words, and I did save

The steeds. The chariot, too, would have been dashed

All broken on the stones, had I not come.”

The lad was angered, but the Boy moved not,

Though from the distant hills His gaze was drawn.

“Dost thou not know,” the lad said, wonderingly,

“How near was Death to thee a moment since?”

The Boy, now fully aroused, smiled at the ladAll kindly, as a loving father smilesUpon his child that waked him unaware,Whose sleep nor storm nor clatter could affect,Yet at the touch of little baby handsOpens wide his eyes, that twinkle joyfully.“No nearer to grim Death,” the Boy replied,“Was I than thou, my friend, art near it now.Thou seekest Joseph and hast wandered farFrom distant Jaffa, where thy father died.Thou’rt Fidus named. From Joseph thou wouldst learnThe craftsman’s art, and how to handle toolsTo work with wood, that thou thyself may’st beLike him, a craftsman skilled in his own trade.”“A prophet Thou!” the lad in wonder cried.“Come with me,” made He answer. “I am knownAs Joseph’s Son; so I will speak for thee.”

The Boy, now fully aroused, smiled at the lad

All kindly, as a loving father smiles

Upon his child that waked him unaware,

Whose sleep nor storm nor clatter could affect,

Yet at the touch of little baby hands

Opens wide his eyes, that twinkle joyfully.

“No nearer to grim Death,” the Boy replied,

“Was I than thou, my friend, art near it now.

Thou seekest Joseph and hast wandered far

From distant Jaffa, where thy father died.

Thou’rt Fidus named. From Joseph thou wouldst learn

The craftsman’s art, and how to handle tools

To work with wood, that thou thyself may’st be

Like him, a craftsman skilled in his own trade.”

“A prophet Thou!” the lad in wonder cried.

“Come with me,” made He answer. “I am known

As Joseph’s Son; so I will speak for thee.”

As evening fell on Nazareth’s burning streetEach day these two would wander out alone;And by the well, or in a quiet gladeSeated, would hold their talk, with none to hear.Yet converse scarce it was; with ears intent,Fidus did always listen, while the BoyPoured out a tale of Kings and Prophets old;Of marvels that they worked to testifyUnto a King whom yet the earth would see,A King of all Judea and the world;Whose glory, mounting even to the starsWould dim with rich effulgence, their great light.The Sun of Justice He, the Moon of nightThat had for ages settled o’er the earth.He told of wonders that the King would doBefore He mounted to His mighty throne.He told of love surpassing every loveThat earth had seen, and of His Kingdom wide;Till all on fire Fidus hung’red to seeThe King Himself, and worship at His throne.“A Roman though I am,” he oft would cry,“Thy King I’d welcome and for Him I’d serve.”“Yet thou art craftsman and no soldier thou.”“A craftsman too can serve his loyal due.”“How wouldst thou serve?” the Boy inquiring spoke.“When Joseph bids me go, that I can learn no more,This I can do—to build for Him His throne.”The Shadow swept across the boyish face—The Shadow Fidus once had seen before;And he was silent, for in awe he stoodWhen that mysterious shade shut off the lightThat shone out from the radiant brow.The Shadow was not fear, nor dread of death;But dread of something worse than death could bring.It was as if a lily, broken, bent,But yet unsullied, now was stained with filthBy impious hand; more cruel far than deathThe marring of the whiteness death had spared:Or like a stream, that through its mountain bedHad raced unfettered, toward the amber sea,And o’er the rapids and the pebbles dashedClear, cold and placid when the mouth is reached;Then, death unfeared before it, ready nowTo give back to the ocean all it gave,Into its pureness poured a stream so darkThat tainted all its life, when life was lost.’Twas thus the Shadow seemed; but soon it passed,And smiling boyhood turned a happy faceThe while he said: “So thou wouldst build His throne?But dost thou know the form that throne will take?”

As evening fell on Nazareth’s burning street

Each day these two would wander out alone;

And by the well, or in a quiet glade

Seated, would hold their talk, with none to hear.

Yet converse scarce it was; with ears intent,

Fidus did always listen, while the Boy

Poured out a tale of Kings and Prophets old;

Of marvels that they worked to testify

Unto a King whom yet the earth would see,

A King of all Judea and the world;

Whose glory, mounting even to the stars

Would dim with rich effulgence, their great light.

The Sun of Justice He, the Moon of night

That had for ages settled o’er the earth.

He told of wonders that the King would do

Before He mounted to His mighty throne.

He told of love surpassing every love

That earth had seen, and of His Kingdom wide;

Till all on fire Fidus hung’red to see

The King Himself, and worship at His throne.

“A Roman though I am,” he oft would cry,

“Thy King I’d welcome and for Him I’d serve.”

“Yet thou art craftsman and no soldier thou.”

“A craftsman too can serve his loyal due.”

“How wouldst thou serve?” the Boy inquiring spoke.

“When Joseph bids me go, that I can learn no more,

This I can do—to build for Him His throne.”

The Shadow swept across the boyish face—

The Shadow Fidus once had seen before;

And he was silent, for in awe he stood

When that mysterious shade shut off the light

That shone out from the radiant brow.

The Shadow was not fear, nor dread of death;

But dread of something worse than death could bring.

It was as if a lily, broken, bent,

But yet unsullied, now was stained with filth

By impious hand; more cruel far than death

The marring of the whiteness death had spared:

Or like a stream, that through its mountain bed

Had raced unfettered, toward the amber sea,

And o’er the rapids and the pebbles dashed

Clear, cold and placid when the mouth is reached;

Then, death unfeared before it, ready now

To give back to the ocean all it gave,

Into its pureness poured a stream so dark

That tainted all its life, when life was lost.

’Twas thus the Shadow seemed; but soon it passed,

And smiling boyhood turned a happy face

The while he said: “So thou wouldst build His throne?

But dost thou know the form that throne will take?”

“’T will be a throne,” Fidus replied, “so highThat all may see Him, while from it He reigns,And know that He has come unto His own.”

“’T will be a throne,” Fidus replied, “so high

That all may see Him, while from it He reigns,

And know that He has come unto His own.”

“Aye,” quick the Boy made answer, “it shall beUplifted high that every man may see;Not Jews alone but even ye of Rome;And men from Britain too, on farthest shoreOf Rome’s great Empire: they shall see and knowThe King who reigns upon that living throne;And in the Islands of unchartered seasThe King shall lifted be, that all may know;And worlds still undiscovered shall bow downTo do Him homage, yet shall hate His name.For homage goes with hate, and hate will beThe measure of the homage that shall swellIn pæans great around the royal throne.”

“Aye,” quick the Boy made answer, “it shall be

Uplifted high that every man may see;

Not Jews alone but even ye of Rome;

And men from Britain too, on farthest shore

Of Rome’s great Empire: they shall see and know

The King who reigns upon that living throne;

And in the Islands of unchartered seas

The King shall lifted be, that all may know;

And worlds still undiscovered shall bow down

To do Him homage, yet shall hate His name.

For homage goes with hate, and hate will be

The measure of the homage that shall swell

In pæans great around the royal throne.”

Fidus looked wond’ring at the Boy Who spoke,As if the right to build the throne were HisAnd He could give it to the friend who askedThis only boon, as pledge of love untold.

Fidus looked wond’ring at the Boy Who spoke,

As if the right to build the throne were His

And He could give it to the friend who asked

This only boon, as pledge of love untold.

“And I would build it strong so it could goO’er sea and land, and last for aye and aye.”

“And I would build it strong so it could go

O’er sea and land, and last for aye and aye.”

“So thou wouldst build the throne?” again the BoyHalf musing spoke. Across His face once moreThe Shadow fell; and, as he stood, His handsHe lifted up and out, as if in prayer.Another Shadow fell upon the ground,The arms and body strangely like a Cross.Fidus was silent till the prayer was done.The sun now set, and all the shadows passed.They, arm in arm, ran fast to Joseph’s house.But, at the door they paused and, said the Boy:“Thou must remember ever this thy dayWhen I the promise gave that I can keep,For thou shalt build His throne!”

“So thou wouldst build the throne?” again the Boy

Half musing spoke. Across His face once more

The Shadow fell; and, as he stood, His hands

He lifted up and out, as if in prayer.

Another Shadow fell upon the ground,

The arms and body strangely like a Cross.

Fidus was silent till the prayer was done.

The sun now set, and all the shadows passed.

They, arm in arm, ran fast to Joseph’s house.

But, at the door they paused and, said the Boy:

“Thou must remember ever this thy day

When I the promise gave that I can keep,

For thou shalt build His throne!”

The years passed on,And Fidus to the Roman hosts returnedWhere, welcomed as a soldier’s clever son,He wrought in wood for all the legions thereIn Jaffa, where his father had been killed.For eighteen years he stayed beside the seaAnd, working at the trade that Joseph taught,He never once forgot the precious pledgeThe Boy had made. But never saw nor heardAught of his friend. Then he was sent awayBy Pilate’s call, unto Jerusalem.

The years passed on,

And Fidus to the Roman hosts returned

Where, welcomed as a soldier’s clever son,

He wrought in wood for all the legions there

In Jaffa, where his father had been killed.

For eighteen years he stayed beside the sea

And, working at the trade that Joseph taught,

He never once forgot the precious pledge

The Boy had made. But never saw nor heard

Aught of his friend. Then he was sent away

By Pilate’s call, unto Jerusalem.

The evening of the day when he arrivedGreat turmoil swept along the Jaffa road,And near the Gate of Gardens, where the hillCalled Calvary lifted up its rocky head.He heard the crowds discuss a Wonder-ManThe priests had taken, and was on His wayTo judgment. “Out on such a King,” cried one,“Himself He can not save from shameful death.To-morrow’s sun will see Him lifted upAbove the hill, and throw the Shadow ofA Cross upon you fools who thought Him King.”

The evening of the day when he arrived

Great turmoil swept along the Jaffa road,

And near the Gate of Gardens, where the hill

Called Calvary lifted up its rocky head.

He heard the crowds discuss a Wonder-Man

The priests had taken, and was on His way

To judgment. “Out on such a King,” cried one,

“Himself He can not save from shameful death.

To-morrow’s sun will see Him lifted up

Above the hill, and throw the Shadow of

A Cross upon you fools who thought Him King.”

And on the faces dark of all around,Fidus saw Hate he could not understand.Then up a vision rose of NazarethWhen evening fell; a Boy of beauty rare,With a strange Shadow on His lovely face,Standing with arms outstretched in prayer,The glory of the setting sun upon His head.But long and grim the shadow of a CrossBefore Him as He stood. Then to his mindCame swift the stories of the mighty King,And then the promise: “Thou shalt build His throne.”Alas! the long and wav’ring years had sweptThe dreams of youth away; but still remainedThe love, that hungered now to feel the handWithin his own of Mary’s Son. The dayRose brightly in the East. At Pilate’s doorHe met by chance a captain he had knownIn Jaffa, who bade him attentive waitWithin the hall, amongst the soldiers there.But soon a tumult rose without the doors;The Wonder-Man was coming to be judged.Then, as the cries increased, his friend came in.“Make thou a Cross,” he said, “We have but twoAnd, if I judge aright, three shall be sentBeyond the wall this day to Calvary.”

And on the faces dark of all around,

Fidus saw Hate he could not understand.

Then up a vision rose of Nazareth

When evening fell; a Boy of beauty rare,

With a strange Shadow on His lovely face,

Standing with arms outstretched in prayer,

The glory of the setting sun upon His head.

But long and grim the shadow of a Cross

Before Him as He stood. Then to his mind

Came swift the stories of the mighty King,

And then the promise: “Thou shalt build His throne.”

Alas! the long and wav’ring years had swept

The dreams of youth away; but still remained

The love, that hungered now to feel the hand

Within his own of Mary’s Son. The day

Rose brightly in the East. At Pilate’s door

He met by chance a captain he had known

In Jaffa, who bade him attentive wait

Within the hall, amongst the soldiers there.

But soon a tumult rose without the doors;

The Wonder-Man was coming to be judged.

Then, as the cries increased, his friend came in.

“Make thou a Cross,” he said, “We have but two

And, if I judge aright, three shall be sent

Beyond the wall this day to Calvary.”

No more of shouting Fidus heard, for heAlone made ready a great Cross of wood;And, that his craftsman skill should be confessed,He made it well, both strong and workmanlike.“’Tis fit,” he said, “to serve a King,” and smiledAt his grim jest; then went he on his way.

No more of shouting Fidus heard, for he

Alone made ready a great Cross of wood;

And, that his craftsman skill should be confessed,

He made it well, both strong and workmanlike.

“’Tis fit,” he said, “to serve a King,” and smiled

At his grim jest; then went he on his way.

Out in the streets the crowd was surging onAlong the way that leads to Calvary’s hill.And o’er it Fidus saw his Cross; and then,Sometimes, a thorn-crowned head with waving hairBlood-clotted now, and stained a deeper hue;And Hate seemed in the air vibrating round.When sudden, like a bell that sweetly ringsAbove a storm, and seems a messengerOf Peace and Love, there woke upon his soulFrom out the sleeping past, some prophet words:“For homage goes with hate, and hate shall beThe measure of the homage that shall swellIn pæans great around the royal throne.”

Out in the streets the crowd was surging on

Along the way that leads to Calvary’s hill.

And o’er it Fidus saw his Cross; and then,

Sometimes, a thorn-crowned head with waving hair

Blood-clotted now, and stained a deeper hue;

And Hate seemed in the air vibrating round.

When sudden, like a bell that sweetly rings

Above a storm, and seems a messenger

Of Peace and Love, there woke upon his soul

From out the sleeping past, some prophet words:

“For homage goes with hate, and hate shall be

The measure of the homage that shall swell

In pæans great around the royal throne.”

The surging crowd hid from his eyes the thingsHe did not care to see, but faint he heardThe hammer strokes, that seemed to drive the nailsDeep in his heart. Then turned he to a manWho silent stood beside him, and he said:“A stranger I, from Jaffa, yesternightI came. This man? What evil hath He done?”“I know not any wrong that He hath done,”

The surging crowd hid from his eyes the things

He did not care to see, but faint he heard

The hammer strokes, that seemed to drive the nails

Deep in his heart. Then turned he to a man

Who silent stood beside him, and he said:

“A stranger I, from Jaffa, yesternight

I came. This man? What evil hath He done?”

“I know not any wrong that He hath done,”

Came answer fast. “I only know the goodThat He had wrought. Behold my eyes that see!Once they were dark. He passed me by one dayAnd loud I cried: ‘O Son of David, mercy showThat I may see.’ He touched me and I saw.”Another silent man near Fidus stood,To him he spoke, “And friend, what knowest thou?”“I know that now I live though I was dead;For I had gone into the ending tombAll spiced for rest and bound with linen bands;And He did come, and He did call me forth.I heard His voice that sounded far away,As if I stood within a valley deep,And some one, from the mountain crest,Kept calling me. Then clearer was the Voice;As if on wings, I soared aloft to Him,Who had the Power to bid me come or stay.Again my heart did beat and vital bloodSurged through my wid’ning veins. I lived again.”

Came answer fast. “I only know the good

That He had wrought. Behold my eyes that see!

Once they were dark. He passed me by one day

And loud I cried: ‘O Son of David, mercy show

That I may see.’ He touched me and I saw.”

Another silent man near Fidus stood,

To him he spoke, “And friend, what knowest thou?”

“I know that now I live though I was dead;

For I had gone into the ending tomb

All spiced for rest and bound with linen bands;

And He did come, and He did call me forth.

I heard His voice that sounded far away,

As if I stood within a valley deep,

And some one, from the mountain crest,

Kept calling me. Then clearer was the Voice;

As if on wings, I soared aloft to Him,

Who had the Power to bid me come or stay.

Again my heart did beat and vital blood

Surged through my wid’ning veins. I lived again.”

Then Fidus quick recalled a wondrous thing:He saw the Boy in Joseph’s little shop,A sick lamb refuged in His tender arms.He gently stroked the lamb and then the painWas gone from out its piteous pleading eyes.And, lo, the man felt hot tears on his cheeks.

Then Fidus quick recalled a wondrous thing:

He saw the Boy in Joseph’s little shop,

A sick lamb refuged in His tender arms.

He gently stroked the lamb and then the pain

Was gone from out its piteous pleading eyes.

And, lo, the man felt hot tears on his cheeks.

The Cross was raised, and faint the outline stood’Twixt Fidus and the lurid, murky skyThat threatened from afar a terror dark.Then swift it came, for all of darkness dreadThat air could hold, fell down upon the earth.The stumbling crowd in panic slunk away;But Fidus groped through darkness to the Cross.

The Cross was raised, and faint the outline stood

’Twixt Fidus and the lurid, murky sky

That threatened from afar a terror dark.

Then swift it came, for all of darkness dread

That air could hold, fell down upon the earth.

The stumbling crowd in panic slunk away;

But Fidus groped through darkness to the Cross.

He heard a moan of sorrow. Well he knewThe voice of Mary, she of Joseph’s house.His heart stood still; the Vision came again:That evening fair—the Boy—the distant hills—The Shadow of the Cross upon the earthAs He stood silent all absorbed in prayer—The promise that himself should build a throne.“Aye,” so the Boy had said, “for it shall beRaised up on high that every man may see,Not Jews alone, but even ye of Rome;And men from Britain too, on farthest shoreOf Rome’s great Empire: they shall see and knowThe King Who reigns upon that living throne;And, in the Islands of uncharted seasThe King shall lifted be that all may know;And worlds still undiscovered shall bow downTo do Him homage, yet shall hate His name.For homage goes with hate, and hate will beThe measure of the homage that shall swellIn pæans great around His royal throne.”A lightning flash! The rocks asunder rent,The tombs burst open and the dead arose.One moment Fidus saw the CrucifiedEre darkness fell again around the Cross.But in that moment a new vision rose;He saw the hill rise high, and higher still,Till over all the mountains of the worldIt towering stood; and nations, worshippingGazed on a mighty throne that bore a King!Blood red the jewels in His crown of thorns,With ermined pain that wrapped Him all about,Deep in His hands the orb and sceptre nails,Quite gone the Shadow of the primal sinAnd, on His brow, fulfilled the ancient pledgeOf Earth’s Redemption.

He heard a moan of sorrow. Well he knew

The voice of Mary, she of Joseph’s house.

His heart stood still; the Vision came again:

That evening fair—the Boy—the distant hills—

The Shadow of the Cross upon the earth

As He stood silent all absorbed in prayer—

The promise that himself should build a throne.

“Aye,” so the Boy had said, “for it shall be

Raised up on high that every man may see,

Not Jews alone, but even ye of Rome;

And men from Britain too, on farthest shore

Of Rome’s great Empire: they shall see and know

The King Who reigns upon that living throne;

And, in the Islands of uncharted seas

The King shall lifted be that all may know;

And worlds still undiscovered shall bow down

To do Him homage, yet shall hate His name.

For homage goes with hate, and hate will be

The measure of the homage that shall swell

In pæans great around His royal throne.”

A lightning flash! The rocks asunder rent,

The tombs burst open and the dead arose.

One moment Fidus saw the Crucified

Ere darkness fell again around the Cross.

But in that moment a new vision rose;

He saw the hill rise high, and higher still,

Till over all the mountains of the world

It towering stood; and nations, worshipping

Gazed on a mighty throne that bore a King!

Blood red the jewels in His crown of thorns,

With ermined pain that wrapped Him all about,

Deep in His hands the orb and sceptre nails,

Quite gone the Shadow of the primal sin

And, on His brow, fulfilled the ancient pledge

Of Earth’s Redemption.

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