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At Dusk, This Evening
At dusk, this evening, they lopped off his head.
Now Paul, the great Apostle of the Lord,
is gone. To Heaven's height his soul has soared
(only that tired, old flesh of his is dead):
at last set free from jangling Roman fetters,
and far beyond the demon Nero's reach.
Onesimus, who watched with us, has said
that he intends to gather all the letters
that Paul wrote---all of those that he can find---
and copy them into one handy book,
so that those who come after us can look
into Paul's words, and therefore know the mind
of Christ. Soon, all that Paul had come to preach
will be, as he once put it, apt to teach.
Starward
[jlc]
