I was happy to have one fierce hour and sweet.
THE DONKEY by G. K. CHESTERTON
When fishes flew and forests walked
And figs grew upon thorn,
Some moment when the moon was blood
Then surely I was born.
With monstrous head and sickening cry
And ears like errant wings,
The devil’s walking parody
On all four-footed things.
The tattered outlaw of the earth,
Of ancient crooked will;
Starve, scourge, deride me: I am dumb,
I keep my secret still.
Fools! For I also had my hour;
One far fierce hour and sweet:
There was a shout about my ears,
And palms before my feet.
But now I see your fierce hour and bitter. Jesus! Mercy!
And yet, I think even the donkey, grazing on the weeds in quarry wherein the sepulcher of our Lord was to be found, was greeted by our Lord, to the donkey’s amazement.