[Written for the Sentinel]

The Multitude

We were a multitude indeed who followed him that day!
He, with his chosen twelve, had sought a desert place apart
For some sweet intimacies of their own. I think me now
It might have been more seemly had we not intruded there;
But we had heard so much of him, and we had many sick,
And we ourselves were hungry for the living bread he brake;
So, when we learned where he had gone—across Tiberias,
And to Bethsaida's desert outskirts—out of the cities
We made haste to go on foot, and reached the place
Before the ship in which they crossed.

And presently they came. He, when he saw the multitude,
Moved with compassion toward us, healed the sick.
Of all we brought to him that day,
Not one but that he tenderly restored!

But when the day began to wear away, then came the twelve
And asked that he would send the multitude away; for we,
They said, are in a desert place; there is not bread enough
That we should feed so many people.

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