And the gusty wind Brought to mine ears a voice, which seemed to say: Be of good cheer! 'T is I! Be not afraid! And from the darkness, scarcely heard, the answer: If it be thou, bid me come unto thee Upon the water! And the voice said: Come! And then I heard a cry of fear: Lord, save me! As of a drowning man.

And then the voice: Why didst thou doubt, O thou of little faith! At this all vanished, and the wind was hushed, And the great sun came up above the hills, And the swift-flying vapors hid themselves In caverns among the rocks! Oh, I must find him And follow him, and be with him forever! Thou box of alabaster, in whose walls The souls of flowers lie pent, the precious balm And spikenard of Arabian farms, the spirits Of aromatic herbs, ethereal natures Nursed by the sun and dew, not all unworthy To bathe his consecrated feet, whose step Makes every threshold holy that he crosses; Let us go forth upon our pilgrimage, Thou and I only! Let us search for him Until we find him, and pour out our souls Before his feet, till all that's left of us Shall be the broken caskets that once held us! X THE HOUSE OF SIMON THE PHARISEE A GUEST at table.
Are ye deceived?
Have any of the Rulers Believed on him?
or do they know indeed This man to be the very Christ?
Howbeit We know whence this man is, but when the Christ Shall come, none knoweth whence he is.
CHRISTUS.
Whereunto shall I liken, then, the men Of this generation?
and what are they like?
They are like children sitting in the markets, And calling unto one another, saying: We have piped unto you, and ye have not danced We have mourned unto you, and ye have not wept! This say I unto you, for John the Baptist Came neither eating bread nor drinking wine Ye say he hath a devil.

The Son of Man Eating and drinking cometh, and ye say: Behold a gluttonous man, and a wine-bibber; Behold a friend of publicans and sinners! A GUEST aside to SIMON.
Who is that woman yonder, gliding in So silently behind him?
SIMON.
It is Mary, Who dwelleth in the Tower of Magdala.
THE GUEST.
See, how she kneels there weeping, and her tears Fall on his feet; and her long, golden hair Waves to and fro and wipes them dry again.
And now she kisses them, and from a box Of alabaster is anointing them With precious ointment, filling all the house With its sweet odor! SIMON, aside, Oh, this man, forsooth, Were he indeed a Prophet, would have known Who and what manner of woman this may be That toucheth him! would know she is a sinner! CHRISTUS.
Simon, somewhat have I to say to thee.
SIMON.
Master, say on.
CHRISTUS.
A certain creditor Had once two debtors; and the one of them Owed him five hundred pence; the other, fifty.
They having naught to pay withal, he frankly Forgave them both.

Now tell me which of them Will love him most?
SIMON.
He, I suppose to whom He most forgave.
CHRISTUS.
Yea, thou hast rightly judged.
Seest thou this woman?
When thine house I entered, Thou gavest me no water for my feet, But she hath washed them with her tears, and wiped them With her own hair.

Thou gavest me no kiss; This woman hath not ceased, since I came in, To kiss my feet.