John Greenleaf Whittier (1807–1892). The Poetical Works in Four Volumes. 1892.
Narrative and Legendary PoemsSt. Gregorys Guest
A
To careless, sight-worn travellers still,
Who pause beside the narrow cell
Of Gregory on the Cælian Hill.
A beggar, stretching empty palms,
Fainting and fast-sick, in the name
Of the Most Holy asking alms.
In this poor cell of mine I give,
The silver cup my mother gave;
In Christ’s name take thou it, and live.”
The pastoral crook and keys of Rome,
The poor monk, in Saint Peter’s chair,
Sat the crowned lord of Christendom.
“And let twelve beggars sit thereat.”
The beggars came, and one beside,
An unknown stranger, with them sat.
“O stranger; but if need be thine,
I bid thee welcome, for the sake
Of Him who is thy Lord and mine.”
Like His who on Gennesaret trod,
Or His on whom the Chaldeans gazed,
Whose form was as the Son of God.
And in the hand he lifted up
The Pontiff marvelled to behold
Once more his mother’s silver cup.
Sweetly among the flowers of heaven.
I am The Wonderful, through whom
Whate’er thou askest shall be given.”
With his twelve guests in mute accord
Prone on their faces, knowing well
Their eyes of flesh had seen the Lord.
Nor vain thy art, Verona’s Paul,
Telling it o’er and o’er again
On gray Vicenza’s frescoed wall.
Its bread with sorrow, want, and sin,
And love the beggar’s feast prepares,
The uninvited Guest comes in.
Unseen, because our eyes are dim,
He walks our earth, The Wonderful,
And all good deeds are done to Him.