THE CARPENTER'S SON

And let him be buried in holy ground."

The first said: "This is the best to do." With his hand he hammered the ash-stake through.

Now, one was the devil, and one was good,
And One of the three had died on rood.

* And the cedar of the house within was carved with knops and open flowers, . . . and he overlaid the cherubims with gold.

I MAKE the wonderful carven beams
Of cedar and oak
To build King Solomon's house of dreams,
With many a hammer-stroke,
And the gilded, wide-winged cherubims.

I have no thought in My heart but this:
How bright will be My bower
When all is finished; My joy it is
To see each perfect flower
Curve itself up to the tool's harsh kiss.

How shall I end the thing I planned?
Such knots are in the wood!
With quivering limbs I stoop and stand,
My sweat runs down like blood . . .
I have driven the chisel through My hand.