Martha, her hand as ready as her heart, Had other cheer provided than of words. 'The willing spirit, if the flesh be weak, May faint,' she thought, 'and angels strengthening Him Brought Jesus succor in Gethsemane. May I not be his angel, Stephen's, now, And his flesh brace to bear his agony?' She said to Stephen: "I have brought thee here A cake of barley and a honeycomb. I pray thee eat and cheer therewith thy heart." "God bless thee, Martha, for thy loving thought!" Said Stephen; and he took the food from her And ate it, giving thanks before them all. And all with him gave thanks, for nothing else Could so have cheered them in their sad estate As thus to see their friend at such an hour Cheering himself with food, his appetite Not troubled by least trouble of the mind, And he approved superior to his lot, Not by a strain of high heroic pride, Not by access of transient ecstasy, But simply by the sober confidence, Well-grounded, of the soul enduring all As seeing Him Who is invisible. Besides, had any deemed that Martha erred, Inopportunely ministering to the flesh, When spirit unsupported by the flesh As well had conquered, and more gloriously, Haply, too, letting this their thought escape, Unmeant, in look or gesture, to her pain-- Such might, in Stephen's gracious act, have heard As if a silent echo of those words-- Ineffably persuasive sweet reproof At once and soft assuagement of unease-- "Why trouble ye the woman? She hath wrought A good work for Me." But the Sanhedrim, Permitted by the Roman to resume Their way with Stephen, now to him once more Their notice turned. Within their heart enraged, First, to have met with such a check, and then, Scarce less, _so_ to have had the check removed-- Both this and that their sense of bondage chafed-- Ill brooked it they to see what now they saw, Their prisoner in calm converse with his friends. "Begone!" to these they cried. "For shame to show Untimely softness thus to whom ye see Your rulers judge worthy of death. Begone!"