The poem
The Saviour looked on Peter. Ay, no word, No gesture of reproach; the Heavens serene Though heavy with armed justice, did not lean Their thunders that way: the forsaken Lord Looked only, on the traitor. None record What that look was, none guess; for those who have seen Wronged lovers loving through a death-pang keen, Or pale-cheeked martyrs smiling to a sword, Have missed Jehovah at the judgment-call. And Peter, from the height of blasphemy-- 'I never knew this man '--did quail and fall As knowing straight THAT GOD; and turned free And went out speechless from the face of all And filled the silenc, weeping bitterly.