PILATE REMEMBERS.

Otago Witness, Issue 3768, 1 June 1926, Page 74

PILATE REMEMBERS.

I wonder why that scene comes back to-night, That long-forgotten scene of years ago. Perhaps this touch of spring, that thin new moon; For it was spring, and spring’s new moon hung low Above my garden on the night he died. I still remember how I felt disturbed That I must send him to a felon's cross On such a day when spring was in the air, And in his life, fcr he was young to die. How tail and strong he stood, how calm his eyes, Fronting me straight the while I questioned him. His fearless heart spoke to me through his eyes, Oould I have won him as my follower, <al a hundred like beside, my way had led vo CsMir’s palace, and I’d wear to-day i'ha imperial purple, iiut he would not move file little bit from has wild madcap dream Of seeking truth. What wants a man with “truth" When he is young and spring is at the door? He would not listen, so he had to go; One mad Jew *■!•» meant little to the state, And pleasing Annas made my task the less. And yet for me lie spoiled that silver night Remembering it was spring and he was * William E. Brooks, in Scribner’s.