The Red Sun Was Pasted In The

In The Swirling Rain That Came At Dusk The Broad Avenue Glistened With That Deep Bluish Tint Which Is So Widely Condemned When It Is Put Into Pictures.

It Was Not Well To Drive Men Into Final Corners; At Those Moments They Could All Develop Teeth And Claws.

The Voice Of God Whispers In The Heart So Softly That The Soul Pauses, Making No Noise, And Strives For These Melodies, Distant, Sighing, Like Faintest Breath, And All The Being Is Still To Hear.

Two Or Three Angels Came Near To The Earth. They Saw A Fat Church. Little Black Streams Of People Came And Went In Continually. And The Angels Were Puzzled To Know Why The People Went Thus, And Why They Stayed So Long Within.

A Mysterious Fraternity Born Out Of Smoke And Danger Of Death.