And so that is where matters rest now- After thirty odd years, two millennia, a kiss And oh!, the tree, a lonely tree that paved The road to Satan's gnawing jaws, and now this! That the righteous of the ages who raged and raved Curses upon you, had got it wrong somehow!
Perhaps, if you could find time from being chewed, As you apparently are being, and ponder That for thirty you died a miserable wretch; You'd probably be baffled and wonder That your brittle pages can now fetch Three million, even though corroded and mildewed.
And perhaps, too, you'd look at the stars above, And your's the foremost of them! Would you shed A lonely tear that others were absolved For doing they knew not what, and yet you alone have bled All these ages? Or perhaps you knew, and in your mind were resolved To plant the kiss that was not the child of sin, but Love?
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