WHY JESUS WEPT 
19 
Of the Screes shall forsake 
Her home for desire 
Of me !  Say the spell ! 
Down then !  to drive — 
He dives.  The waters close over him.  He rises. 
Misery ever ! 
I dived, and the best 
Could dive no deeper. 
Did I touch bottom ? 
Never, O never ! 
I stand confessed 
A footler, a creeper. 
These spells — ’Od rot ’em ! — 
Are vain as the world, 
As all of the stars. 
This mystery’s nought. 
But for cold !  The lake 
Is hot as the curled 
Flames at the bars 
Of Hell ; it is wrought 
Of fire :  what shall slake 
This terrible thirst, 
This Torment accurst ? 
He looks into the water. 
Yet, in my face 
As I gaze on the water 
Is something calmer. 
What if the king 
Of the Screes should see me,