O Do Not Weep, She Says, For

Dance Until The Earth Dance.

Why Wait For Death To Mow? Why Wait For Death To Sow Us In The Ground?

I Testify To Rainbow Feathers, To The Span Of Heaven And Walls Of Colour, The Colonnades Of Jasper.

O Ruthless, Perilous, Imperious Hate, You Can Not Thwart The Promptings Of My Soul.

Take What The Old-church Found In Mithra's Tomb, Candle And Script And Bell, Take What The New-church Spat Upon And Broke And Shattered.