The Deed

When I, made merry with the wine,

Had left my roystering band,

I saw a cold and boneless man-

No poorer in the land;

And, gathering all my money left,

I filled his trembling hand.

But who looked into his father's eyes-

Whose was the voice of pain?

' If he had done this thing,' said Christ,

'With his clear heart and brain-

Could I not bear a second Cross,

And die for man again?'