It muttered words It had learned on earth, the words of a black-coat priest
Who had bade It pray to a pulpit god—but ever Eye’s Wrath increased;
And It knew that Its words were empty words, and It whined like a homeless beast:
Till, black above the lintel-slit, the Nakéd Eye went out;
Till, loud across the Killer-Feasts, It heard the Killer-Shout—
The three-fold song of them that slew, and died ... and had no doubt.
THE SONG OF THE RED-EDGED STEEL
Below your black priest’s heaven,
Above his tinselled hell,