The Saviour looked on Peter. Ay, no word, No gesture of reproach; the Heavens serene Though heavy with armed justice, did not lean Their thunders that way: the forsaken Lord Looked only, on the traitor. 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. And Peter, from the height of blasphemy 'I never knew this man' did quail and fall As knowing straight that God; and turned free And went out speechless from the face of all And filled the silence, weeping bitterly.
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