And the centurion who stood by said: <br />Truly this was a son of God. <br />Not long ago but everywhere I go <br />There is a hill and a black windy sky. <br />Portent of hill, sky, day's eclipse I know; <br />Hill, sky, the shuddering darkness, these am I. <br />The dying at His right hand, at His left, <br />I am - the thief redeemed and the lost thief; <br />I am the careless folk; I those bereft, <br />The Well-Belov'd, the women bowed in grief. <br />The gathering Presence that in terror cried, <br />In earth's shock in the Temple's veil rent through, <br />I; and a watcher, ignorant, curious-eyed, <br />I the centurion who heard and knew.'<br /><br />Adelaide Crapsey<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-crucifixion-7/
