第54部分(第3/7 頁)

Christ；　for　him　who　could　hold　her　to　his　breast　and　lose　her

there。　Oh；　for　the　breast　of　man；　where　she　should　have　refuge

and　bliss　for　ever！　All　her　senses　quivered　with　passionate

yearning。

Vaguely　she　knew　that　Christ　meant　something　else：　that　in

the　vision…world　He　spoke　of　Jerusalem；　something　that　did　not

exist　in　the　everyday　world。　It　was　not　houses　and　factories　He

would　hold　in　His　bosom：　nor　householders　nor　factory…workers

nor　poor　people：　but　something　that　had　no　part　in　the　weekday

world；　nor　seen　nor　touched　with　weekday　hands　and　eyes。

Yet　she　must　have　it　in　weekday　terms……she　must。

For　all　her　life　was　a　weekday　life；　now；　this　was　the　whole。　So

he　must　gather　her　body　to　his　breast；　that　was　strong　with　a

broad　bone；　and　which　sounded　with　the　beating　of　the　heart；　and

which　was　warm　with　the　life　of　which　she　partook；　the　life　of

the　running　blood。

So　she　craved　for　the　breast　of　the　Son　of　Man；　to　lie　there。

And　she　was　ashamed　in　her　soul；　ashamed。　For　whereas　Christ

spoke　for　the　Vision　to　answer；　she　answered　from　the　weekday

fact。　It　was　a　betrayal；　a　transference　of　meaning；　from　the

vision　world；　to　the　matter…of…fact　world。　So　she　was　ashamed　of

her　religious　ecstasy；　and　dreaded　lest　any　one　should　see

it。

Early　in　the　year；　when　the　lambs　came；　and　shelters　were

built　of　straw；　and　on　her　uncle's　farm　the　men　sat　at　night

with　a　lantern　and　a　dog；　then　again　there　swept　over　her　this

passionate　confusion　between　the　vision　world　and　the　weekday

world。　Again　she　felt　Jesus　in　the　countryside。　Ah；　he　would

lift　up　the　lambs　in　his　arms！　Ah