The Trial of Christ
Remarkable first person poem of the trial of Christ in seven stages by lawyer John Brayshaw Kaye, 1841-1909. Printed in 1909.
“While listening to this,
My heart, pulsing my breast with mighty throbs,
Leaps to my throat; my opened lips amove,
Frame burning words, run mad for utterance,
Raging betwixt my teeth at my tongue’s end,
Ready to leap into articulate speech,
For I was a disciple, there to answer—
By the High-Priest’s consent and knowledge, there
By his procurement. I had heard the Master
A thousand times and well might testify.
I knew the truth, which was consuming me,
Here was the Master’s plea that I might speak,
Poor traitor that I am, I shall be called
To witness more readily on that account,
And surely now my soul shall free itself,
Speaking for Him the eternal verities,
Happen to me what may; I reck it not.”
My heart, pulsing my breast with mighty throbs,
Leaps to my throat; my opened lips amove,
Frame burning words, run mad for utterance,
Raging betwixt my teeth at my tongue’s end,
Ready to leap into articulate speech,
For I was a disciple, there to answer—
By the High-Priest’s consent and knowledge, there
By his procurement. I had heard the Master
A thousand times and well might testify.
I knew the truth, which was consuming me,
Here was the Master’s plea that I might speak,
Poor traitor that I am, I shall be called
To witness more readily on that account,
And surely now my soul shall free itself,
Speaking for Him the eternal verities,
Happen to me what may; I reck it not.”