The Crowing of the Red Cock
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- Across the Eastern sky has glowed
- The flicker of a blood-red dawn,
- Once more the clarion cock has crowed,
- Once more the sword of Christ is drawn.
- A million burning rooftrees light
- The world-wide path of Israel's flight.
- Where is the Hebrew's fatherland?
- The folk of Christ is sore bestead;
- The Son of Man is bruised and banned,
- Nor finds whereon to lay his head.
- His cup is gall, his meat is tears,
- His passion lasts a thousand years.
- Each crime that wakes in man the beast,
- Is visited upon his kind.
- The lust of mobs, the greed of priest,
- The tyranny of kings, combined
- To root his seed from earth again,
- His record is one cry of pain.
- When the long roll of Christian guilt
- Against his sires and kin is known,
- The flood of tears, the life-blood spilt
- The agony of ages shown,
- What oceans can the stain remove,
- From Christian law and Christian love?
- Nay, close the book; not now, not here,
- The hideous tale of sin narrate,
- Reechoing in the martyr's ear,
- Even he might nurse revengeful hate,
- Even he might turn in wrath sublime,
- With blood for blood and crime for crime.
- Coward? Not he, who faces death,
- Who singly against worlds has fought,
- For what? A name he may not breathe,
- For liberty of prayer and thought.
- The angry sword he will not whet,
- His nobler task is--to forget.
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