Poems (Kennedy)/Iscariot
ISCARIOT
YOUR soul is yours; God gave it you As pure as are His stainless stars,And no one save yourself can blur Its fairness with defacing scars.
By other hands your hope may fail, By alien acts your heart be rent,But ere your spirit feels the soil Unto the wrong you must consent.
The poppy-blooms of sin spring thick Along the path to each high goal;'Tis when you pluck them you become The Judas of your own white soul.