Page:Main Street and other poems, Kilmer, 1917.djvu/51

MAIN STREET AND OTHER POEMS

THE ROBE OF CHRIST (continued) He comes, and his face is sad and mild,

With thorns his head is crowned;

There are great bleeding wounds in his feet,

And in each hand a wound.

How can I tell, who am a fool,

If this be Christ or no?

Those bleeding hands outstretched to me!

Those eyes that love me so!

I see the Robe—I look—I hope—

I fear—but there is one

Who will direct my troubled mind;

Christ's Mother knows her Son.

O Mother of Good Counsel, lend

Intelligence to me!

Encompass me with wisdom,

Thou Tower of Ivory!

"This is the Man of Lies," she says,

"Disguised with fearful art:

He has the wounded hands and feet,

But not the wounded heart."

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