E-text prepared by Al Haines, Victoria, B.C., Canada, January 2004
1913
No tears for thee, no tears, or sighs,
Or breaking heart—
But smiles, that thou so well that bitter hour
Didst play thy part!
Up from the templed city of the Jews,
The road ran straight and white
To Jericho, the City of the Palms,
The City of Delight.
Down that still road from far Judean hills
The shepherds drove their sheep
At silver dawn—at stirring of the birds—
When men were all asleep.
Full many went that weary way at noon,
Or rested by the trees,
Romans and slaves, Gentiles and bearded priests,
Sinners and Pharisees.
But when the pink clouds drifted far and high,
Like rose leaves blowing past,
When in the west where one star blessed the sky
The gates of day shut fast.
All travellers journeyed home, and the moonlight
Washed the road fresh and sweet,
Until it seemed a gleaming ivory path,
Waiting for royal feet.
* * * * *
Now it was noon, and life at its full tide
Rolled ever to and fro,
A restless sea, between Jerusalem
And white-walled Jericho.
Blind Bartimeus, by the highway side,
Sat begging 'neath the trees,
And heard the world go by, Gentiles and Jews,
Sinners and Pharisees.
Blind Bartimeus of the mask-like face,
And patient, outstretched hand—
He upon whom his God had set a mark
No man might understand;
Blind Bartimeus of the lonely dark,
Who knew no thing called fear,
But dreamt his dreams, and heard the little sounds
No man but he could hear.
He heard the beating of the bird's soft wings
Uprising through the air;
He heard the camel's footfall in the dust,
And knew who travelled there.
He heard the lizard when it moved at noon
On the grey, sunlit wall;
He heard the far-off temple bells, what time
He felt the shadows fall.
Now, in the golden hour, he stooped to hear
A muffled sound and low,
The tramping of a myriad sandal