"I cannot," interrupting so herself, Said Mary, "cannot ever make you know How like a heavenly-chanted music flowed The stream of these beatitudes from Him. The lovely paradox of blessedness Pronounced upon the persecuted, seemed So like the purest, simplest reasonableness, When those unfaltering lips declared it true! All things seemed easy and certain that He said; Certain, yet some things awful and austere; As when in that same speech with altered strain He sternly spake of judgment and hell-fire; It was as if the mount whereon He sat, Verdurous and soft, were into Sinai turned, And muttered thunder. But when with a change And cadence indescribable He said: 'Love ye your enemies, and them that curse You, bless, do good to them that hate you, pray For them that use you only with despite And persecute you still, that ye may be The children of your Father in the heavens, For He His sun maketh to rise alike Upon the evil and upon the good, And without difference sendeth rain upon The just with the unjust. For if ye love Them that love you, what have ye for reward? Do not the oppressive publicans the same? And if your brethren only ye salute, What more than others do ye do? Do not The oppressive publicans likewise? But ye, Be perfect, as your heavenly Father is:' And then when, closing, with authority He said: 'Whoever heareth these sayings of Mine And doeth them, I will liken him to one Who wisely built his house upon a rock; The rain descended then and the floods came And the winds blew and beat upon that house, And it fell not, being founded on a rock: And every one that heareth these sayings of Mine And doeth them not, he shall be likened to one Who foolishly his house built on the sand; The rain descended then and the floods came And the winds blew and beat upon that house-- It fell, and mighty was the fall thereof;' When thus, I say, He tempered His discourse, Sweetness and awfulness were blended so In His majestic and benignant mien As never yet I knew them--never until They met and kissed each other at Calvary. That," Mary with a look toward Krishna said, After a pause of reminiscence mute, "That was when Jesus died upon the cross." "Tell me of that," said Krishna answering her, Forgetful for an instant of reserve; Then added with self-recollection swift: "But all in order due, or as thou wilt, For I am debtor to thy courtesy, And I shall listen fain to what thou sayest, All, and however thou shalt order it. I find thy Master's doctrine sweet to hear, And partly not unlike our Buddha's strain." "Perhaps our guest, if I may name him such," Downcast toward Krishna turning, Mary said-- "Most welcome we all make him, I am sure, To this our simple hospitality