WHAT time our Lord still walk'd the earth 
Unknown  despised  of humble birth 
And on Him many a youth attended
(His words they seldom comprehended) 
It ever seem'd to Him most meet
To hold His court in open street 
As under heaven's broad canopy
One speaks with greater liberty.
The teachings of His blessed word
From out His holy mouth were heard;
Each market to a fane turn'd He
With parable and simile.

One day  as tow'rd a town He roved 
In peace of mind with those He loved 
Upon the path a something gleam'd;
A broken horseshoe 'twas  it seem'd.
So to St. Peter thus He spake:
"That piece of iron prythee take!"
St. Peter's thoughts had gone astray --
He had been musing on his way
Respecting the world's government 


A dream that always gives content 
For in the head 'tis check'd by nought;
This ever was his dearest thought 
For him this prize was far too mean
Had it a crown and sceptre been!
But  surely  'twasn't worth the trouble
For half a horseshoe to bend double!
And so he turn'd away his head 
As if he heard not what was said 

The Lord  forbearing tow'rd all men 
Himself pick'd up the horseshoe then
(He ne'er again like this stoop'd down).
And when at length they reach'd the town 
Before a smithy He remain'd 
And there a penny for 't obtain'd.
As they the market-place went by 
Some beauteous cherries caught His eye:
Accordingly He bought as many
As could be purchased for a penny 
And then  as oft His wont had been 
Placed them within His sleeve unseen.

They went out by another gate 
O'er plains and fields proceeding straight 
No house or tree was near the spot 
The sun was bright  the day was hot;
In short  the weather being such 
A draught of water was worth much.
The Lord walk'd on before them all 
And let  unseen  a cherry fall.
St. Peter rush'd to seize it hold 
As though an apple 'twere of gold;
His palate much approv'd the berry;
The Lord ere long another cherry
Once more let fall upon the plain;


St. Peter forthwith stoop'd again.
The Lord kept making him thus bend
To pick up cherries without end.
For a long time the thing went on;
The Lord then said  in cheerful tone:
"Had'st thou but moved when thou wert bid 
Thou of this trouble had'st been rid;
The man who small things scorns  will next 
By things still smaller be perplex'd."

1797



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