The Look


    The Saviour looked on Peter. Ay, no word,
    No gesture of reproach; the Heavens serene
    Though heavy with armed justice, did not lean
    Their thunders that way: the forsaken Lord
    Looked only, on the traitor. None record
    What that look was, none guess; for those who have seen
    Wronged lovers loving through a death-pang keen,
    Or pale-cheeked martyrs smiling to a sword,
    Have missed Jehovah at the judgment-call.
    And Peter, from the height of blasphemy
    'I never knew this man' did quail and fall
    As knowing straight that God; and turned free
    And went out speechless from the face of all
    And filled the silence, weeping bitterly.


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