"Winter shall come bringing death from the sea,
Ruinous spring shall beat at our doors,
Root and shoot shall eat our eyes and our ears,
Disastrous summer burn up the beds of our streams
... ... ...
Shall the Son of Man be born again in the litter of scorn?"
-- Chorus in 'Murder in the Cathedral', pp.11-13
"I am moved by fancies that are curled
Around these images, and cling:
The notion of some infinitely gentle
Infinitely suffering thing."
--- On Sun, 12/26/10, George Carless <[log in to unmask]> wrote: