Here in the Candlelight
HERE in the candlelight and the silver's little gleam,
While the last leaves fall without, as dead hopes might fall, I think of the slender, shining stream Poured by the priests into Judas' hands, I think of the silver's little gleam, Faint shining as the drops that trickled through Pilate's soft hands.
Cold is the light wherein the law-fulfilling Pilate stands, Washing his hands, washing his hands, Colder than the untracked lands Where Judas strayed ; Yet of this light I am less afraid • Than of the warm light wherein stood Peter and the servant maid.
I look from the silver's gleam down to the fire's red glow, And I think that it was not yesterday or two thousand years ago That One gave to another beside a flickering fire The =reproachful gaze-of Love, as the- shadows mounted higher.
PERCY RIPLEY.
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