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Color (Cullen)/Judas Iscariot

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4101060Color — Judas IscariotCountee Cullen

Judas Iscariot

I THINK when Judas' mother heardHis first faint cry the nightThat he was born, that worship stirredHer at the sound and sight.She thought his was as fair a frameAs flesh and blood had worn;I think she made this lovely nameFor him—"Star of my morn."
As any mother's son he grewFrom spring to crimson spring;I think his eyes were black, or blue,His hair curled like a ring.His mother's heart-strings were a luteWhereon he all day played;She listened rapt, abandoned, mute,To every note he made.
I think he knew the growing Christ,And played with Mary's son,And where mere mortal craft sufficed,There Judas may have won. Perhaps he little cared or knew,So folly-wise is youth,That He whose hand his hand clung toWas flesh-embodied Truth;
Until one day he heard young Christ,With far-off eyes agleam,Tell of a mystic, solemn trystBetween Him and a dream.And Judas listened, wonder-eyed,Until the Christ was through,Then said, “And I, though good betide,Or ill, will go with you.”
And so he followed, heard Christ preach,Saw how by miracleThe blind man saw, the dumb got speech,The leper found him well.And Judas in those holy hoursLoved Christ, and loved Him much,And in his heart he sensed dead flowersBloom at the Master’s touch.
And when Christ felt the death hour creepWith sullen, drunken lurch,He said to Peter, “Feed my sheep,And build my holy church.” He gave to each the special taskThat should be his to do,But reaching one, I hear him ask,"What shall I give to you?"
Then Judas in his hot desireSaid, "Give me what you will."Christ spoke to him with words of fire,"Then, Judas, you must killOne whom you love, One who loves youAs only God's son can:This is the work for you to doTo save the creature man."
"And men to come will curse your name,And hold you up to scorn;In all the world will be no shameLike yours; this is love's thorn.It takes strong will of heart and soul,But man is under ban.Think, Judas, can you play this roleIn heaven's mystic plan?"
So Judas took the sorry part,Went out and spoke the word,And gave the kiss that broke his heart,But no one knew or heard. And no one knew what poison ateInto his palm that day,Where, bright and damned, the monstrous weightOf thirty white coins lay.
It was not death that Judas foundUpon a kindly tree;The man was dead long ere he boundHis throat as final fee,And who can say if on that dayWhen gates of pearl swung wide,Christ did not go His honored wayWith Judas by His side?
I think somewhere a table roundOwns Jesus as its head,And there the saintly twelve are foundWho followed where He led.And Judas sits down with the rest,And none shrinks from His hand,For there the worst is as the best,And there they understand.
'And you may think of Judas, friend,As one who broke his word, Whose neck came to a bitter endFor giving up his Lord.But I would rather think of himAs the little Jewish ladWho gave young Christ heart, soul, and limb,And all the love he had.