I am the mountainy singer

I am the mountainy singer,

And I would sing of the Christ

Who followed the paths thro' the mountains

To eat at the people's tryst.

He loved the sun-dark people

As the young man loves his bride,

And he moved among their thatches,

And for them he was crucified.

And the people loved him, also,

More than their houses or lands,

For they had known his pity

And felt the touch of his hands.

And they dreamed with him in the mountains

And they walked with him on the sea,

And they prayed with him in the garden,

And bled with him on the tree.

Not ever by longing and dreaming

May they come to him now,

But by the thorns of sorrow

That bruised his kingly brow.