The laughing, careless, reckless sun,
The life-giver, when all is done,
Knowing no weakness or tenderness,
Having no pity for our distress.
Sick to death of our mists and lies,
Pours himself upon other skies.
YOU who boast you're an optimist.
May the leprosy of the Jews
Wither your flesh for the truth you've missed
And the cozening lies you use!
One little child, tender and weak,
Hurt by life's devil's-wheel
Should make you blush thro' your bowels sleek.
But you are not worthy to feel.
As long as the smallest one
Of earth's children by pain is riven.
As long as one cry goes up under the sun,
God must not be forgiven!
He does not forgive Himself,
The rain in the night is his prayer.
From the cross, from the cross, he forgives such pelf
As you — who hung him there!