“I Thought I Stood.”

I thought I stood in Heaven before God’s throne, and God asked me what I

had come for. I said I had come to arraign my brother, Man.

God said, “What has he done?”

I said, “He has taken my sister, Woman, and has stricken her, and

wounded her, and thrust her out into the streets; she lies there

prostrate. His hands are red with blood. I am here to arraign him; that

the kingdom be taken from him, because he is not worthy, and given unto

me. My hands are pure.”

I showed them.

God said, “Thy hands are pure.--Lift up thy robe.”

I raised it; my feet were red, blood-red, as if I had trodden in wine.

God said, “How is this?”

I said, “Dear Lord, the streets on earth are full of mire. If I should

walk straight on in them my outer robe might be bespotted, you see how

white it is! Therefore I pick my way.”

God said, “On what?”

I was silent, and I let my robe fall. I wrapped my mantle about my head.

I went out softly. I was afraid that the angels would see me.