i There was a man and a woman Who sinned. Then did the man heap the punishment All upon the head of her, And went away gaily. ii There was a man and a woman Who sinned. And the man stood with her. As upon her head, so upon his, Fell blow and blow, And all people screaming, "Fool!" He was a brave heart. iii He was a brave heart. Would you speak with him, friend? Well, he is dead, And there went your opportunity. Let it be your grief That he is dead And your opportunity gone; For, in that, you were a coward.

There was a man who lived a life of fire. Even upon the fabric of time, Where purple becomes orange And orange purple, This life glowed, A dire red stain, indelible; Yet when he was dead, He saw that he had not lived.

There was a great cathedral. To solemn songs, A white procession Moved toward the altar. The chief man there Was erect, and bore himself proudly. Yet some could see him cringe, As in a place of danger, Throwing frightened glances into the air, A-start at threatening faces of the past.

Friend, your white beard sweeps the ground. Why do you stand, expectant? Do you hope to see it In one of your withered days? With your old eyes Do you hope to see The triumphal march of justice? Do not wait, friend! Take your white beard And your old eyes To more tender lands.

Once, I knew a fine song, -- It is true, believe me -- It was all of birds, And I held them in a basket; When I opened the wicket, Heavens! They all flew away. I cried, "Come back, little thoughts!" But they only laughed. They flew on Until they were as sand Thrown between me and the sky.

If I should cast off this tattered coat, And go free into the mighty sky; If I should find nothing there But a vast blue, Echoless, ignorant -- What then?

God lay dead in heaven; Angels sang the hymn of the end; Purple winds went moaning, Their wings drip-dripping With blood That fell upon the earth. It, groaning thing, Turned black and sank. Then from the far caverns Of dead sins Came monsters, livid with desire. They fought, Wrangled over the world, A morsel. But of all sadness this was sad -- A woman's arms tried to shield The head of a sleeping man From the jaws of the final beast.

A spirit sped Through spaces of night; And as he sped, he called, "God! God!" He went through valleys Of black death-slime, Ever calling, "God! God!" Their echoes From crevice and cavern Mocked him: "God! God! God!" Fleetly into the plains of space He went, ever calling, "God! God!" Eventually, then, he screamed, Mad in denial, "Ah, there is no God!" A swift hand, A sword from the sky, Smote him, And he was dead.