Back, in olden time when emperors Ruled the land where Tiber flows, Proud and stern dwelt Gondoforus, As the ancient legend shows.
As he mused in hours of leisure, Came into his brain this thought: “Straight I'll build, for mine own glory Here, a palace deftly wrought
“Of the richest gold and silver; With the choicest gems bedecked; That shall on my house and lineage Still a greater light reflect.
“Shall outshine the Roman Emperor's In its beauty and its worth; Place fore'er his lordly structure ‘ Mid the lesser of the earth.”
So he sent his message speeding To the regions far and near, That some great and cunning builder Might at his command appear.
When, one day, with mien all lowly, Wrapped about in garments gray, Stood the architect before him, His behest to now essay.
Spoke his will — and Gondoforus Went forth proudly unto war; Days and months sped on unheeded, Still no word came from afar.
Yet the architect wrought, silent, Though he touched nor plan nor pen; For the palace he was building Was not seen by eyes of men.
While unto the poor and wretched Freely of the gold gave he; Precious stones were turned to healing Needs of poor humanity!
Back, returning flushed with victory, Gondoforus came apace; Sought, in vain, to view his palace — Bare and empty was its place!
Then he sent, with sternest message, For the architect, and said — “Caitiff, what is now thy showing? Answer, by thy hoary head!”
Thomas ( he who, doubting, lingered When his fellows pressed to claim As their risen Lord, the Saviour ) Spake: “Oh, thou of kingly name,
“Lo! thy house is even builded!” But the warrior bade them cast In deep dungeon him who trifled With his will — there bind him fast,
While he planned the subtlest torment For the traitor's aged frame, While he doomed, with keenest vengeance, Him to torture, death and shame!
But, as in his rage he pondered, Sleep o'ertook him, held him chained, And a vision hovered near him — Earthly sense grew dim and waned.
Then the spirit of his brother Swiftly to his side drew nigh; Said, in words that thrilled his being, “He whom thou hast doomed to die
“Is the servant of the Mighty; Is an instrument of grace, For the angels now have shown me ( Where no narrow walls have place
“And where dwell the hosts eternal ) Reared in all its beauty there, Lo! a House of precious jewels And of ornament most fair.
“Fashioned of the precious metals Thou wouldst fain have builded here; Fashioned with a grace and glory That on Earth doth not appear.
Thus, in Paradise there standeth Waiting thee, a House divine, Which the Architect hath fashioned All on Earth to now outshine!”
Then the vision paled and vanished; Gondoforus straightway sped To the captive, who awaiting, Bowed in prayer his aged head.
Gondoforus knelt before him; Then the holy Thomas spoke, As he raised the humble warrior Crushed beneath the vision's stroke —
“Knowest not, O King, the mansions That endure, are reared on high? Builded there, for us, in Heaven By our faith and charity.”
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