_ The
crucified
are three.
Elizabeth Browning
_Ador. _ Speak low, my brother, low,--and not of love
Or human or angelic! Rather stand
Before the throne of that Supreme above,
In whose infinitude the secrecies
Of thine own being lie hid, and lift thine hand
Exultant, saying, "Lord God, I am wise! "--
Than utter _here_, "I love. "
_Zerah. _ And yet thine eyes
Do utter it. They melt in tender light,
The tears of heaven.
_Ador. _ Of heaven. Ah me!
_Zerah. _ Ador!
_Ador. _ Say on!
_Zerah.
_ The crucified are three.
Beloved, they are unlike.
_Ador. _ Unlike.
_Zerah. _ For one
Is as a man who has sinned and still
Doth wear the wicked will,
The hard malign life-energy,
Tossed outward, in the parting soul's disdain,
On brow and lip that cannot change again.
_Ador. _ And one--
_Zerah. _ Has also sinned.
And yet (O marvel! ) doth the Spirit-wind
Blow white those waters? Death upon his face
Is rather shine than shade,
A tender shine by looks beloved made:
He seemeth dying in a quiet place,
And less by iron wounds in hands and feet
Than heart-broke by new joy too sudden and sweet.
_Ador. _ And ONE! --
_Zerah. _ And ONE!
