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Canadian
Born
by
Emily Pauline Johnson
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“Give
Us Barabbas”*
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There
was a man—a Jew of kingly blood,
But of the people—poor
and lowly born,
Accused of blasphemy of God, he stood
Before the Roman Pilate,
while in scorn
The multitude demanded it was fit
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That
one should suffer for the people, while
Another be released, absolved, acquit,
To live his life out virtuous
or vile.
“Whom will ye have—Barabbas or this
Jew?”
Pilate made answer to the
mob, “The choice
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Is yours;
I wash my hands of this, and you,
Do as you will.” With
one vast ribald voice
The populace arose and, shrieking, cried,
“Give us Barabbas,
we condone his deeds!”
And He of Nazareth was crucified—
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Misjudged,
condemned, dishonored for their needs. [Page
47]
And down these nineteen centuries anew
Comes the hoarse-throated,
brutalized refrain,
“Give us Barabbas, crucify the Jew!”
Once more a man must bear
a nation’s stain,—
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And
that in France, the chivalrous, whose lore
Made her the flower of knightly
age gone by.
Now she lies hideous with a leprous sore
No skill can cure—no
pardon purify.
And an indignant world, transfixed with hate
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Of
such disease, cries, as in Herod’s time,
Pointing its finger at her festering state,
“Room for the leper,
and her leprous crime!”
And France, writhing from years of torment, cries
Out in her anguish, “Let
this Jew endure,
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Damned
and disgraced, vicarious sacrifice.
The honor of my army
is secure.” [Page 48]
And, vampire-like, that army sucks the blood
From out a martyr’s
veins, and strips his crown
Of honor from him, and his herohood
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Flings
in the dust, and cuts his manhood down.
Hide from your God, O! ye that did this act!
With lesser crimes the halls
of Hell are paved.
Your army’s honor may be still intact,
Unstained, unsoiled, unspotted,—but
unsaved. [Page 49]
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* NOTE.—Written after Dreyfus
was exiled. [back] |
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