Poems (Kennedy)/For He Was Mary's Son

by Sara Beaumont Kennedy

FOR HE WAS MARY'S SON

(GOOD FRIDAY)

IT was the Mary-part of him that prayed Beneath the garden's midnight skyThat it might be the Father's holy will The death-drugged cup should pass him by—

The mother-heritage, the earthly trait So sweet and yet so prone to err;For he was half her child, this suppliant, Born of the blood and bone of her.

Had he been all divine, the dreaded cup He would have quaffed and made no sign.Nay, more; the draught had had no bitter taste Had he been all divine—

Had he been wholly God he had not feared E'en for a breath the stern decreeThat wrung from him the crucifixion cry: "Eloi, lama sabachthani!"

But he was Mary's child as well as God's; 'Twas she who dowered him with the strainThat taught him kinship with an aching heart, Yet made him coward at the thought of pain.

'Tis that he dreaded while he drained the cup That courage is the world's high creed;'Tis that, in agony, he cried for help That he is pitiful to human need!