MARY, THE MOTHER OF CHRIST
On Golgotha's barren mountain-top two thousand years ago,
Knelt the mother of a convict keeping watch upon his wo;
Guarding, with that other Mary, in the brute mob all alone,
Fearlessly beside the dying, at the great Blasphemer's throne.
Brokenheartedly she murmured o'er and o'er the words of love,
Reaching thru the tragic darkness to the stricken form above;
Seeking with the mother-magic to give comfort to his pain,
Weeping when he cried for mercy to Authority in vain.
In the midst of all the legions, of the law in all its might,
Of the murdrous priesthood jeering, as they've ever jeered the right,
Knelt the mother of the convict, of the outcast hanging there,
Unaffrighted by the clamor, in her beautiful despair.
Far across the weary centuries I seem to see her still,
She the loving and the gentle, on that blackened, blood-wet hill;
Watching, with that other Mary, in the brute mob all alone,
Fearlessly beside the dying, at the great Blasphemer's throne.
✤ ✤ ✤ ✤
LUCIFER, THE MORNING STAR
He was the first to face the wrath of priesthoods and of kings;
He was the first to make his mind the judgment-place of things;
He was the first to question, first to feel the steel of might—
Lucifer, the Morning Star, the splendid and the bright!
Around his shining spirit, lo! the priests of earth have thrown
A shadow and a terror that belongs to kings alone—
A demon demons made him, crowned him prince of Utmost Night—
Lucifer, the Morning Star, the splendid and the bright!
Through ages upon ages, they have cursed him day on day,
But fearless and unconquered he has held them all at bay;
Forever and forever he has faced them in the fight—
Lucifer, the Morning Star, the splendid and the bright!
Hail to the first of rebels! To the chieftain, strong and brave,
Who sounded first the bugle-call of freedom to the slave!
Who never yet has faltered through time's long and dreary flight—
Lucifer, the Morning Star, the splendid and the bright!
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