"Yea," Paul said, "and more, the impossible become, When God so wills it; as for me He willed! My life these many years, my self, has been One contradiction of the possible. The reconcilement of all things in Christ Is God the Blessed's purpose and decree. For God delights in the impossible." Gamaliel did not heed, but murmuring spoke, In absent deep communion with himself: "Saul, Paul, the same still, and so changed, so changed! And cause of change none other than that stroke, That lightning-stroke he tells of, launched on him From out a cloudless sky at blazing noon! Whence, and what was it, that stupendous blow! Would He have lied Who flashed it blinding down? Or suffered any liar to claim it his? And the dread Voice made answer: 'It is I, Jesus of Nazareth, the Crucified.' Lo, my whole head is sick, my whole heart faint, Turned dizzy with the whirl of many thoughts-- Thoughts many, and too violently strange, For a worn-weary aged mind like mine! I feel I am too feeble to abide Much longer all this tumult of my heart; I shall myself cease, if it does not cease. And peradventure cease it would, could I Stop striving, and give up to be a child. A child once more! Ah, that in truth were sweet, To find some bosom like a mother's, where I might lay down my aching head to rest, This head, so hoar, the foolish think so wise! Old, but not wise, not wise indeed though old; In weakness--would it were in meekness too!-- A child, leaning, with none to lean upon-- Such is Gamaliel in his hoary age!" Besides his words, the old man's yearning look Bore witness to the trouble of his mind. Paul spoke--so gently that the sense he gave Seemed to Gamaliel almost his own thought: "'Come unto Me,' Messiah Jesus said, 'Come unto Me,' as Who had right, said, 'ye That labor and are heavy-laden, all, Come unto Me and I will give you rest. My yoke upon you take, and learn of Me; For meek am I in heart, and lowly; so Shall ye find rest unto your souls." From Paul No more; for, all as if he naught had heard, But only was remembering what he heard, Gamaliel went on musing audibly: 'Rest'--comfortable word! But he was young That spake thus, young, and in the law unlearned; And of a yoke spake he, 'My yoke,' he said. Surely I am too old to go to school, Too reverend-old, my neck so late to bend, A sign to all the people--stooped to take Meekly that youngster Galilæan's yoke! Beware, beware! I tremble at the words I speak. I feel the dreadful presence here, More dreadful, of the power that shook me so, When those apostles of the Nazarene Stood up before our council to be judged. If I should now, this last time, err through pride!"