English poem
Dorette. Keep open door
by Marjorie Pickthall (1883–1922)
Dorette. Keep open door, O Saviour, of your mercy. Blot him out In soft leaf-shadows like a little death. Shut thou his eyes with webs, his breath with buds, Prison his hands with branches. Strew Thou me Dust on the wind to blind them so they see not, Nor hear.....Ah!
Jean is heard singing as he approaches the house.
Jean. (singing) Three kings rode to Bethlehem By the sand and the foam. Three kings rode to Bethlehem, Only two rode home.
O, he hath stayed to watch her face And make his prayer thereto, And to lay down for his soul's grace The straw beneath her shoe.
O, he hath sold the golden rings That linked his camel-reins, And the low song a mother sings Is all his sorrow gains.
Two rode home by the foam and the sand, Between the night and the day, But one has stayed in Holy Land And cast his crown away.