And the gray sky opened like a new-rent veil
And showed the apostles with their coats of mail.
In bright white steel they were seated round
And their fire-eyes watched where the Congo wound.
And the twelve apostles, from their thrones on high,
Thrilled all the forest with their heavenly cry:—
“Mumbo-Jumbo will die in the jungle; |Sung to the tune of “Hark, ten thousand harps and voices.”|
Never again will he hoo-doo you,
Never again will he hoo-doo you.”
Then along that river, a thousand miles, |With growing deliberation and joy.|