H. S. Graham
The Field of Blood
STRANGER, this foreign field wherein you lie
Has many human vessels fashioned true
Under the Potter's Thumb. The Priests did buy
It with the silver Traitor Judas threw
Into the Treasury, as he confessed
He had betrayed the Blood of Innocence.
They bought the field for weary Strangers' rest;
And you are Stranger thrice,—to War's offence,
To death and to this land. The World allied
To other Traitors long have seized Our Lord
And by this War have Him re-crucified;
And soldiers guard His Tomb with naked swords.
But for all this the stone shall roll away,
And you shall rise with Him on Easter Day!
6th December, 1916.
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