Page:Poems Jackson.djvu/120

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80
POEMS.
Thy road some other way. Take better heed
Next time thou seekest saints! One single deed
Of good I never did. I live in sins.
Unhand me now! another dance begins."
"Flute-player," said the Abbot, stern and sweet,
"God cannot lie! Some deed thou hast done meet
For serving him. Bethink thee now, and tell.
Where was it that the blessed chance befell?"
Half-sobered by the Abbot's voice and mien,
The player spoke again, "No more I ween
Of serving God, than if no God there were:
But now I do remember me of her
That once I saved from hands of robber-men,
Whose chief I was. I know I wondered then
What new blood could have quickened in my veins.
I gave her, spite myself, of our rich gains
Three hundred pieces of good gold, to free
Her husband and her sons from slavery.
But love of God had nought to do with this:
I know him, love him not; I do not miss
Nor find him in the world. I love my sins.
Now let me go! another dance begins."
"Yes, go!" the Abbot gently said, and took
His grasp from off his arm. "But, brother, look,
If God has thus to thee this one good deed
So fully counted, wilt thou not take heed
Thyself, remembering him?"

Thyself, remembering him?"Then homeward slow,
Alone and sad, where he had thought to go
Triumphant with a new-found brother-saint,
The Abbot went. But vain he set restraint