Strange

HE died at night. Next day they came
To weep and praise him : sudden fame
These suddenly warm comrades gave.
They called him pure, they called him brave ;
One praised his heart, and one his brain ;
All said, You’d seek his like in vain, —
Gentle, and strong, and good: none saw
In all his character a flaw.

At noon he wakened from his trance,
Mended, was well! They looked askance ;
Took his hand coldly ; loved him not,
Though they had wept him ; quite forgot
His virtues; lent an easy ear
To slanderous tongues ; professed a fear
He was not what he seemed to be ;
Thanked God they were not such as he ;
Gave to his hunger stones for bread;
And made him, living, wish him dead.