But they are strong hands. It is burned into my soul and never will it lift from me until die.Despair of Judas I will rest here. capable proud hands.³Friend. And weren’t pretty hands when the executioners got through them. and devils cried out: torment us not. Judas. he dealt with me so gently. or wielded carpenters tools. of carpenters. while in my purse there jingled the coins which bought his blood. or playing the welladvertised Good Samaritan at charity balls. Jesus. as in the days long past. one of whom it would have been better not to have been born. The world has kissed such hands. Why did not the mountains fall on me? Why did not the earth gape and swallow me up? Why did not the sea overwhelm me? Friend Ha! Ha! Friend Ha! Ha! Ha! The world will know Judas as the friend. engineers. The world will point to Judas as a by word. and as a pledge of broken faith! Do you think Judas you can hide from the father of your friend Jesus? Not even in hell can I escape. I didn’t get them that way by playing bridge or drinking afternoon tea out of dainty cups. Why shouldn’t I feel proud does the work they do ± these dirty hands of mine? My hands are the hands of plumbers. faithless friend. There is no hope for you. Delaney S. the world should go down on its knees and kiss all the dirty hands of the working world. armored knights would kiss the hands of ladies fair. He washed my feet. do it quickly. of truck drivers and street cleaners. Someday. hands that make so much that the world must have or die. . They are not pretty hands. His face! His face! Not comely now. not endless years in hell can even pay the crime of murdering the son of God. He bade me to put my hand into the cup with his. There is no beauty in it. Not in the heavens for Jesus the friend is there What hope for Judas? What hope for Judas? Not even in hell can I escape for he called me devil. The man I betrayed called me his friend. devil.J I’m proud of my dirty hands. It is scarred into my heart. dragged rough lumber. Judas. The world will always kiss such hands. It was better for that man that he had never been born. And they are rough and knobby and calloused. they are dirty. and I’m proud of the work and the dirt. Not in the grave for the earth will spurn my corpse. no hope. I got them that way by working with them. I’m proud of my dirty hands. awhile.´ He knew. Judas. where unto have you come. and no hope« Dirty Hands By John P. I think. who but I. And last night. And I’m proud of the dirt and the knobs and the callousness. They were workingman’s hands ± strong. How hell must have laughed. I who betrayed him!³What you do. Yes. His weren’t pretty hands either when they chopped trees. Die? Will death quench the flames which consume me? Traitor. Who? Who but I. they are dirty and knobby and calloused. and kept my sin a secret. do you betray the Son of God with a kiss? Friend Friend! He called me his friend. machinists and workers in steel. Men and women put reverent lips to the hands of Him who held the hammer and the saw and the plane.

these . most ourselves.J. and the edges of the wounds were rewind dirty and swollen. They weren’t pretty hands then. in our story. But He offers no worldly allurement. Satan desires all men to come under his Standard. that which is most original. These are the bonds that bind us together. I doubt we can claim to possess a truly national literature. crucified as a criminal. We are sundered one from another by eightyseven dialects. the wedding. and to this endures them with riches. This pauper among the nations of the earth hides two jewels in her rages. our Faith. but. like the hands of my Savior. O God. If we must give currency to our thoughts. the Hands of my God The Two Standards-by Horace de la Costa. and the joints were crooked and the fingers were horribly bent in a mute appeal for love. as though they had been touched by a king. we yet have something. listening to the young men’s guitars. no Cervantes has yet been born among us to touch with immortality that which is in our landscape. and his mother singing the self-made song. power. in our customs. only the Son of Man. poor not only in material goods. against them. the gates of Hell cannot Jewels of the Pauper by Horacio de la Costa. And I’m proud of my hands too. for it began with the revolt of the angels. This is our other treasure. and watching the shadows deepen on the long shills. Somewhere in the rugged north. and the Visayan listening remembers the crane fields of his childhood. they were beautiful ± those hands of the Savior. Only Jesus. all that ministers to the lust and pride of man. but even in the riches of the spirit. and the blood was running from them. it rages in every nation. hands of God. It is a warfare wide as the world. a peasant woman croons her child to sleep. I’m proud of those dirty hands. a kind of splendor. S. One of them is our music. And did you ever notice how they are always mingling. rejected as a teacher. our religion and our music? All the basic rite of human life ± the harvest and the seedtime. It gives somehow. We are again one people when we pray. in the heart of every man. to our little uneventful days. Christ on the contrary. birth and death ± are among us drenched with the fragrance and the coolness of music. There is a thought that comes to me sometimes as I sit by my window in the evening. we are focused to mint them in the coinage of a foreign tongue. we are a remarkably poor people. every city.They were torn right clean through by ugly nails. the hills of my native land. they are certain of ultimate victory. invites all to fight under His Standard. only Himself. You know. raised in poverty. betrayed by His friend. S. born an outcast. we are one people when we sing. But poor as we are. The kundimans of Bulacan awaken an answering chord of lutes of Leyte. And therefore His followers shall not be confounded forever.J Life is Warfare: a warfare between two standards: the Standard of Christ and the Standard of Satan. hands of my Savior. dirty hands. No Shakespeare. honors. It is warfare older than the world. for we do not even have a common language.

we will resemble you in that. lines 43-61)To bait fish withal: if it feed nothing else. subject to the same diseases. we have supplicated. And as long as there remains in these islands one mother to sing Nana’s lullaby. in this quarter of the world.are the souls that make us one. passions? fed with the same food. Sir. dimensions. I ask gentlemen. They are meant for us: they can be meant for no other. the last arguments to which kings resort. trampled upon. revenge! The villainy you teach me I will execute. and that is the lamp of experience. organs. do we not bleed? if you tickle us. Shylocks Defense by William Shakespeare (from The Merchant of Venice Act III. we have done everything that could be done to avert the storm which is now coming on. Our petitions have been slighted. if its purpose be not to force us to submission? Can gentlemen assign any other possible motive for it? Has Great Britain any enemy. and what's his reason? I am a Jew. sir. Shall we resort to entreaty and humble supplication? What terms shall we find which have not been already exhausted? Let us not. what should his sufferance be by Christian example? Why. the nation may be conquered. do we not die? And if you wrong us. And what have we to oppose to them? Shall we try argument? Sir. Like the sun that dies every evening it will rise again from the dead. we have been trying that for the last ten years. do we not laugh? if you poison us. affections. We have held the subject up in every light of which it is capable. They are sent over to bind and rivet upon us those chains which the British ministry has been so long forging. cooled my friends. we have remonstrated. We have petitioned. mocked at my gains. If a Jew wrongs a Christian. Scene I. These are the implements of war and subjugation. to call for all this accumulation of navies and armies? No. as a Christian is? If you prick us. but it cannot perish. healed by the same means. heated mine enemies. shall we not revenge? If we are like you in the rest. Have we anything new to offer upon the subject? Nothing. laughed at my losses. I beseech you. thwarted my bargains. Sir. one priest to stand at the altar and offer God to God. what is his humility? Revenge! If a Christian wrongs a Jew. He hath disgraced me. sir. we have prostrated ourselves before the throne. and have implored its interposition to arrest the tyrannical hands of the ministry and Parliament. enslaved. warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer. she has none. it will feed my revenge. senses. but it has been all in vain. hurt with the same weapons. Hath not a Jew eyes? Hath not a Jew hands. scorned my nation. I know of no ourselves. what means this martial array. sir. deceive us. one boat to put out to sea with the immemorial rowing song. and hindered me half a million. our . and it shall go hard but I will better the instruction Give Me Liberty Or Give Me Death by Patrick Henry I have but one lamp by which my feet are guided.

Peace. Suffer not yourselves to be betrayed with a kiss. If we were base enough to desire it. the brave. are invincible by any force which our enemy can send against us. And judging by the past. after these things. Besides. we are no tweak if we make a proper use of those means which the God of nature hath placed in our power. sir. Is it that insidious smile with which our petition has been lately received? Trust it not. But when shall we be stronger? Will it be the next week. Almighty God! I know not what course others may take. The battle. sir. is not to the strong alone. we must fight! An appeal to arms and to the God of hosts is all that is left us! They tell us. from the foot of the throne! In vain. and who will raise up friends to fight our battles for us. There is no retreat but in submission and slavery! Our chains are forged! Their clanking may be heard on the plains of Boston! The war is inevitable--and let it come! I repeat it. let it come. Besides. sir. It is in vain. There is a just God who presides over the destinies of nations. I wish to know what there has been in the conduct of the British ministry for the last ten years to justify those hopes with which gentlemen have been pleased to solace themselves and the House. Gentlemen may cry. the active. The war is actually begun! The next gale that sweeps from the north will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms! Our brethren are already in the field! Why stand we here idle? What is it that gentlemen wish? What would they have? Is life so dear. sir. with contempt. as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it. until our enemies shall have bound us hand and foot? Sir. it is to the vigilant. our supplications have been disregarded. sir. and when a British guard shall be stationed in every house? Shall we gather strength by irresolution and inaction? Shall we acquire the means of effectual resistance by lying supinely on our backs and hugging the delusive phantom of hope. or the next year? Will it be when we are totally disarmed. and which we have pledged ourselves never to abandon until the glorious object of our contest shall be obtained--we must fight! I repeat it.remonstrance’s have produced additional violence and insult. unable to cope with so formidable an adversary. it is now too late to retire from the contest. we shall not fight our battles alone. sir.but there is no peace. and we have been spurned.if we mean to preserve inviolate those inestimable privileges for which we have been so long contending--if we mean not basely to abandon the noble struggle in which we have been so long engaged. sir. The millions of people. may we indulge the fond hope of peace and reconciliation? There is no longer any room for hope. armed in the holy cause of liberty. but as for me. If we wish to be free-. sir. and in such a country as that which we possess. we have no election. Are fleets and armies necessary to a work of love and reconciliation? Have we shown ourselves so unwilling to be reconciled that force must be called in towing back our love? Let us not deceive . Ask yourselves how this gracious reception of our petition comports with those warlike preparations which cover our waters and darken our land. Peace-. to extenuate the matter. give me liberty or give me death! way of judging of the future but by the past. or peace so sweet. that we are weak. it will prove a snare to your feet.

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