S. The Contrast.
The Contrast. The glory of the kingdom spread Over the mountain’s lofty head Lighting the rocky steeps; And Jesu’s robes were glittering white, His face — the sun in all its might — And Peter sleeps!
’Tis night, and in Gethsemane A prostrate form in agony With bitter crying, weeps: The darkness deepens at His groan, The darkest night this earth has known — And Peter sleeps!
He lies upon the dungeon floor; The guard, quadrupled, round the door Its midnight vigil keeps;
Two chains of iron bind him fast, Tomorrow’s morn shall be his last And Peter sleeps!
E. L. Bevir.