VI.

They caught him when the morning had tinged the Eastern skies;

The gem was found upon him, as red as guilty blood;

He stood, his head sunk forward, with listless, shal- low eyes,

And hopelessness submerged him like some unholy flood;

A Thief he was by calling. The law? The law was great;

What chance had he for pity? His fate was sealed and done;

He was unclean, an outcast, a menace to the state;

A thing to be avoided, a stain against the sun!

They led him to his hearing, the hall was still and light;

A judge was seated higher, who passed him with a glance;

And suddenly, forgetting his weariness and fright,

The thief cried, leaping forward, “I did not have a chance!”

The judgment hall was spacious, and coldly white and wide —

And coldly came the sentence — “He shall be crucified!”