His finger writes upon the common dust:
Their fingers point; they point accusingly:
And in the dust, disturbed by shadowed light,
They read their names, and creep away to plan
And plot revenge; and taste their secret sins!
And in the temple dust, in morning light,
(A stone's short throw from death) she reads her name,
And sees, in distant images, a dream
Of childhood days, and skips away to live,
To live and love anew; and sin no more!
