Why Jesus Wept

42 WHY JESUS WEPT. For ever let us travel so ; To stop so sweet a flight were woe. Even to stop for love’s own sake ; Save my love did it — Then ? well ! well ! Better to rest together, hard Hidden in a corner of the ghyll, Some cavern frosted over close, Some gully vivid with the rose Of love ! The frost our years retard ! The rose — perfume our wonder-will ! But while I sing the moon is up. False moon ! False moon ! So fast to ride. He is not here ! Sure, he is dead ! O moon, reveal that holiest head ! There is much sorrow in love’s cup : Pleasure goes ever iron-eyed. Who are these fierce and eager forms That face across the untrodden moor, The dark-browned horsemen lashing, crying ; Urging their weary steeds ? Half-dying The beasts bend bitter to the storm’s Assault : they hunt ? A man, be sure ! These figures touch my soul with fear. What of my love ? These caitiffs chase him, May be. Who rides ? I’ll catch his bridle,