Fiddler's Farewell/Oberammergau

by Leonora Speyer

Oberammergau

Rich man, poor man, beggar-man, thief,
Over the hills to the mountain folk,
Doctor, lawyer, merchant, chief,
Across the world they find their way;
Christ will be crucified to-day.

Christ will hang crowned, and we are here.
Villager, are there beds enough?
Soup and bread and a pot of beer?—
Weary Gentile, Turk and Jew,
Lord and peasant, Christian too.
***
Who called His Name? What was it spoke?
Perhaps I dreamed. Then my walls dreamed!
I saw them shaking as I woke;
The dawn tuned silver harps, and there
The Star hung singing in the air.

"Rich man, rich man, drawing near,
Have you not heard of the needle's eye?
Beggar, whom do you follow here?
Did you give to the poor as He bade you do?
Proud sir, which of the thieves are you?"

"Doctor, lawyer, whom do you seek?
Do you succor the needy and ask no fee?
Chief, will you turn the other cheek?
Merchant, there is a story grim
Of money-changers scourged by Him!"

The Star leaned lower from the sky:
"Oh men in holy orders dressed,
Hurrying so to see Him die,
Important, as becomes your creed,
Why bring you dogma for His need?"
***
The streets of Oberammergau
Are waking now, are crowding now;
The Star has fallen like a tear;
There is a tree with a waiting bough
Not far from here.

Rich man, poor man, beggar and thief,
Over the hills to the mountain folk,
Doctor, lawyer, merchant, chief,
Magdalene, Mary great with grief,
And Martha walking heavily—

Doubter—dreamer—which am I?
Lord, help Thou mine unbelief!