Torn and defiant as a wind-lashed reed,
Wounded, he faced you as he stood at bay;
You dared not lynch him in the light of day,
But on your dungeon stones you let him bleed;
Night came ... and you black vigilants of Greed,...
Like human wolves, seized hand upon your prey,
Tortured and killed ... and, silent, slunk away
Without one qualm of horror at the deed.

Once ... long ago ... do you remember how
You hailed Him king for soldiers to deride--
You placed a scroll above His bleeding brow
And spat upon Him, scourged Him, crucified...?
A rebel unto Caesar--then as now--
Alone, thorn-crowned, a spear wound in His side!

--R.C. in "N.Y. Call."