THE YOUNG MAN OF NAZARETH
The young man out of Nazareth
Was good to see —
I felt a breath
Awaken, dew-fresh, like a breeze
Astir among the olive trees,
The grace of youth flowered in his speech
— Into my heart. I followed His
Brave, eager words with a strange reach,
Half- wondering why, until the rim
Of the gray mountain ridge was white
With stars —
Men told strange tales of sight
Come to a beggar, one born blind —
I do not know. Some say they find
Those still who think it was a king
They killed. And never anything
Has brought such quiet to my bed
As thinking of the things He said:
A kingdom simple as a child —
Its king a servant —
Though He smiled
A lion looked out of His eye./His brave, young heart brake…
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