And the weary toilers went slowly home
Through the darkening streets. Their work was done.
But some of them lingered and dared to stay
To see the King as He passed that way,
Though the royal feast was not for them,
Yet they all might touch His garment’s hem.
But even as the rulers sat in state,
A knock was heard at the palace gate,
“The King has come at last,” they cried,
And their hearts beat fast with joy and pride,
“Our King has kept His royal word,
Let us all go forth to meet our Lord.”
And they all went forth, that stately throng,
And the palace gates were open flung,
And there in the entrance stood a man
In the humble garb of an artizan.
A murmur of anger, loud and long,
Went up from that jeweled, silk-robed throng,
That one from the ranks of the low and poor
Should dare to knock at the palace door;
And they frowned on him as he meekly said:
“I am tired and hungry, give me bread,
I have journeyed many a mile this day,
And my path lay over a rugged way,
My limbs are weary and ready to sink,
I am tired and thirsty, give me drink.”
But they answered him as with one accord,
“This is the palace of Christ the Lord;
Within the hall the feast is spread.
Is it right that a beggar should eat the bread
Page:The songs that Quinte sang.djvu/66
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62
THE COMING OF THE KING.