Bliss Carman, et al., eds. The World’s Best Poetry. 1904.
Poems of Fancy: III. Mythical: Mystical: LegendaryThe Ballad of Judas Iscariot
Robert Buchanan (1841–1901)’T
Lay in the Field of Blood;
’T was the soul of Judas Iscariot
Beside the body stood.
And black was the sky;
Black, black were the broken clouds,
Tho’ the red Moon went by.
Strangled and dead lay there;
’T was the soul of Judas Iscariot
Looked on it in despair.
Like a sick man’s in rest;
Drop by drop on the World’s eyes
The dews fell cool and blest.
Did make a gentle moan—
“I will bury underneath the ground
My flesh and blood and bone.
Lest mortals look thereon,
And when the wolf and raven come
The body will be gone!
And hard and bold, God wot;
And I must bear my body hence
Until I find a spot!”
So grim, and gaunt, and gray,
Raised the body of Judas Iscariot,
And carried it away.
Its touch was cold as ice,
And the ivory teeth within the jaw
Rattled aloud, like dice.
Carried its load with pain,
The Eye of Heaven, like a lanthorn’s eye,
Opened and shut again.
Lifted on the cold wind;
He did not turn, for chilly hands
Were pushing from behind.
It was the open wold,
And underneath were prickly whins,
And a wind that blew so cold.
It was a stagnant pool,
And when he threw the body in
It floated light as wool.
And it was dripping chill,
And the next place that he came unto
Was a Cross upon a hill.
And a Cross on either side,
Three skeletons that swing thereon,
Who had been crucified.
A white Dove slumbering;
Dim it sat in the dim light,
With its head beneath its wing.
A grave yawned wide and vast,
But the soul of Judas Iscariot
Shivered, and glided past.
It was the Brig of Dread,
And the great torrents rushing down
Were deep, and swift, and red.
For fear of faces dim,
And arms were waved in the wild water
To thrust it back to him.
Turned from the Brig of Dread,
And the dreadful foam of the wild water
Had splashed the body red.
Upon an open plain,
And the days went by like blinding mist,
And the nights like rushing rain.
All thro’ the Wood of Woe;
And the nights went by like moaning wind,
And the days like drifting snow.
Came with a weary face—
Alone, alone, and all alone,
Alone in a lonely place!
And heard no human sound;
For months and years, in grief and tears,
He wandered round and round.
He walked the silent night;
Then the soul of Judas Iscariot
Perceived a far-off light.
As dim as dim might be,
That came and went like a lighthouse gleam
On a black night at sea.
Crawled to the distant gleam;
And the rain came down, and the rain was blown
Against him with a scream.
Pushed on by hands behind;
And the days went by like black, black rain,
And the nights like rushing wind.
Strange, and sad, and tall,
Stood all alone at dead of night
Before a lighted hall.
And his foot-marks black and damp,
And the ghost of the silver Moon arose,
Holding her yellow lamp.
And the walls were deep with white,
And the shadows of the guests within
Passed on the window light.
Did strangely come and go,
And the body of Judas Iscariot
Lay stretched along the snow.
Lay stretched along the snow;
’T was the soul of Judas Iscariot
Ran swiftly to and fro.
He ran so swiftly there,
As round and round the frozen Pole
Glideth the lean white bear.
And the lights burned bright and clear—
“Oh, who is that,” the Bridegroom said,
“Whose weary feet I hear?”
And answered soft and slow,
“It is a wolf runs up and down
With a black track in the snow.”
Sat at the table-head—
“Oh, who is that who moans without?”
The blessèd Bridegroom said.
And answered fierce and low,
“’T is the soul of Judas Iscariot
Gliding to and fro.”
Did hush itself and stand,
And saw the Bridegroom at the door
With a light in his hand.
And he was clad in white,
And far within the Lord’s Supper
Was spread so long and bright.
And his face was bright to see—
“What dost thou here at the Lord’s Supper
With thy body’s sins?” said he.
Stood black, and sad, and bare—
“I have wandered many nights and days;
There is no light elsewhere.”
And their eyes were fierce and bright—
“Scourge the soul of Judas Iscariot
Away into the night!”
And he waved hands still and slow,
And the third time that he waved his hands
The air was thick with snow.
Before it touched the ground,
There came a dove, and a thousand doves
Made sweet sound.
Floated away full fleet,
And the wings of the doves that bare it off
Were like its winding-sheet.
And beckoned, smiling sweet;
’T was the soul of Judas Iscariot
Stole in, and fell at his feet.
And the many candles shine,
And I have waited long for thee
Before I poured the wine!”
The lights burn bright and fair,
Iscariot washes the Bridegroom’s feet,
And dries them with his hair.