Look, The
The Saviour looked oer. Ay, no word,
ure of reproach; the Heavens serene
Though heavy with armed justice, did not lean
Their thuhat way: the forsaken Lord
Looked only, oraitor. None record
What that look was, none guess; for those who have seen
Wronged lovers loving through a death-pang keen,
Or pale-cheeked martyrs smiling to a sword,
Have missed Jehovah at the judgment-call.
Aer, from the height of blasphemy--
I never khis man --did quail and fall
As knowing straight THAT GOD; and turned free
A out speechless from the face of all
And filled the silenc, weeping bitterly.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
(ò﹏ò)
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