"'And so these crowds Armed as it seemed, exulted, called me general, And shouted forward. So we ran like mad And came before a building with a dome-- You know--I've seen a picture of it somewhere. And so the crowds yelled: let the bishop enter And see the sepulchre, while we keep guard. They pushed me in. But when I was inside There was no dome, above us was the sky, And what seemed walls was nothing but a fence. Before us was a stable with a stall Where two cows munched the hay. There was a farmer Who with a pitchfork bedded down the stall. "Where is the holy sepulchre?" I asked-- "My army's at the door." He kept at work And never raised his eyes and only said: "Don't know; I haven't time for things like that. You're 'bout the hundredth man who's asked me that. We don't know where it is, nor do we care. We live here and we knew him, so we feel Less interest than you. But have you thought If you should find it it would only be A tomb like other tombs? Why look at this: Here is the very manger where he lay-- What is it? Just a manger filled with straw. These cows are not the very cows you know-- But cows are cows in every age and place. I think that board there has been nailed on since. Outside of that the place is just the same. Now what's the good of seeing it? His mother Lay in that corner there, what if she did? That lantern on the wall's the very one They came to see the child with from the inn-- What of it? Take your army and go on, And leave me with my barn and with my cows." "'So all the glory vanished! Devil magic Stripped all the glory off. No angels singing, No star of Bethlehem, no magi kneeling, No Mary crowned, no Jesus King, no mystic Blood for sins' remission--just a barn, A stall, two cows, a lantern--all the glory-- Swept from the gospel. That's my punishment: My poor weak brain filled full of all this dream, Which seems as real as life--to lie here dying Too weak to shake the dream! To see Death there Behind that cabinet--there--see him look-- By God forsaken--all theology, All mystery, all wonder, all delight Of spiritual vision swept away as clean As winds sweep up the clouds, and thus to see While dying, just a manger, and two cows, A lantern on the wall.