Comrade Jesus Poem by Sarah Norcliffe Cleghorn

Thanks to St. Matthew, who had been
At mass-meetings in Palestine,
We knew whose side was spoken for
When Comrade Jesus had the floor.

'Where sore they toil and hard they lie,
Among the great unwashed, swell I: —
The tramp, the convict I am he;
Cold-shoulder him, cold-shoulder me.'

The Dives' door, with thoughtful eye,
He did tomorrow prophesy: —
'The Kingdom's gate is low and small;
The rich can scarce wedge through at all.'

'A dangerous man,' said Caiaphas,
'An ignorant demagogue, alas!
Friend of low women, it is he
Slanders the upright Pharisee.'

For law and order, it was plain,
For Holy Church, he must be slain.
The roops where there to awe the crowd:
And 'violence' was not allowed.

Their clumsy force with force to foil
His strong, clean hands he would not soil.
He saw their childishness quite plain
Betweent the lightnings of his pain.

Between the twilights of his end
He made his fellow-felon friend:
With swollen tongue, and blinding eyes,
Invited him to Paradise . . .