Page:General William Booth enters into Heaven, and other poems.djvu/109

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You sang of the angel-moon:
We sang of the angel-chief
Who blew thro' the trees strange breath,
Who helped in the hunt all day
And granted the bullock's death.

O Eve with the fire-lit breast
And child-face red and white!
I heaped the great logs high!
That was our bridal night.