NEKAM, ADONAI!
THE PrEcCEPTOR’S ADDRESS TO HIS TEMPLARS
To Sir James Thomas Windram
Love, the saviour of the world,
Must be scourged with many rods,
From its place in heaven hurled,
Outcast before all the gods.
Love, that cleanses all, must be
Washed in its own blood and tears,
Heir of all eternity
Made the martyr of the years.
Love, that fills the void with bliss,
Staunches the eternal flood,
Heals the hurt of the abyss,
Blanches, beggared of its blood.
Love, that wears the laurel crown,
Turns to gain the lees of loss,
That from shame retrieves renown,
Is the carrion of the cross.
Through the heart a dagger-thrust,
On the mouth a traitor kiss,
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