The Saviour looked on Peter. Ay, no word,
     No gesture of reproach; the Heavens serene
     Though heavy with armed justice, did not lean
     Their thunders that way: the forsaken Lord
     Looked only, on the traitor. None record
     What that look was, none guess; for those who have seen
     Wronged lovers loving through a death-pang keen,
     Or pale-cheeked martyrs smiling to a sword,
     Have missed Jehovah at the judgment-call.
     And Peter, from the height of blasphemy--
     'I never knew this man'--did quail and fall
     As knowing straight THAT GOD; and turned free
     And went out speechless from the face of all
     And filled the silenc, weeping bitterly.