Herbert H. Gowen, The little grey lamb (1928)
“ Shall the earth with its phantoms beguile, or God utter Himself through His star? Blow, O ye winds of heaven, mighty the dark to dispel! Shine, star of hope, on our world, vexed with delusions of hell! Lure of the delved ore, mock-sun of our low estate! Shadowed, time-born and time-doomed, on the hell-gendered smoke-clouds of hate! Shalt thou win for thy gloom-spread realm the limitless vault of the sky? With thy will-o-the-wisp wilt thou quench the lights of Eternity? Shall thy angels proclaim from beneath the coming kingship of wrong? ”
