"Ah, Stephen," Paul replied, "we lack not themes To speak of, promising more food to thee For sweet and gracious thought and feeling. Yet I think of Shimei, and to God I speak Of him in prayer, often, not without hope. I never will abandon him to be Himself, the self that now is he. Too well, Too bitterly, I remember what I was, I myself, once, as rancorous as he! If guileful less, that was the grace of God, Who made us differ from each other there. Hateful to him I needs was, from the first, But I was hateful more than needed be; I helped him hate me by my scornful pride. Would from his hate I could that strand untwine! Hating Paul less, he less might Jesus hate; Only to pity Shimei am I clear." "Thy patience and thy meekness make me fierce With anger, with ungovernable wrath Most righteous," Stephen cried, "against those men Who, hating, hunt mine uncle to the death! I hate them, and I wish them--what themselves Wish thee; dogs of the devil that they are! I know a psalm that I should like to sing-- But I should need to roughen hoarse my voice, And a tune frame well jangled out of tune, To sing it as I would, and as were meet. Thy pardon, but my rage surpasses bound; To think of what thou art and what they are! Some spirit in me, right or wrong, too hot For any counsel, even thine own, to cool, Forces unto my lips those wholesome words Of hearty human hatred, God-inspired, Most needful vent and ease to wish like mine; I lift to God the prayer Himself inbreathed: 'Hold not thy peace, thou Lord God of my praise! Who hath rewarded evil still for good, And hatred still for only love returned, Set thou a wicked one lord over him, And Satan ever keep at his right hand. When he is judged, then let him guilty prove, And let his very prayer turn into sin. Few let his days be, and his office let Another take. His children fatherless, His wife a widow, be. Nay, vagabonds His children, let them beg from door to door. All that he hath, let the extortioner Catch, and let strangers make his labor spoil. Let his posterity be utterly Cut off, and in the time to come their name Be blotted out. Let the iniquity Of his forefathers still remembered be In the Lord's presence, and his mother's sin Not blotted out: because he persecuted The poor and needy man, and those that were Already broken-hearted sought to slay. Cursing he loved, and cursing came to him; In blessing he delighted not, and far From him was blessing. He with cursing clothed Himself as with his garment, and it sank Soaking into his inward parts like water And penetrating to his bones like oil. Amen! Let cursing be forevermore As if the raiment wherewith he himself