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The Wood-Cutter, By: G.K. Chesterton

March 14, 2023 by poetrycatalog

The Wood-Cutter, By: G.K. Chesterton

    We came behind him by the wall,
    My brethren drew their brands,
    And they had strength to strike him down–
    And I to bind his hands.

    Only once, to a lantern gleam,
    He turned his face from the wall,
    And it was as the accusing angel’s face
    On the day when the stars shall fall.

    I grasped the axe with shaking hands,
    I stared at the grass I trod;
    For I feared to see the whole bare heavens
    Filled with the face of God.

    I struck: the serpentine slow blood
    In four arms soaked the moss–
    Before me, by the living Christ,
    The blood ran in a cross.

    Therefore I toil in forests here
    And pile the wood in stacks,
    And take no fee from the shivering folk
    Till I have cleansed the axe.

    But for a curse God cleared my sight,
    And where each tree doth grow
    I see a life with awful eyes,
    And I must lay it low.

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