The Greeks Have Snatched Up Their Spears.

When The Shingles Hissed In The Rain Incendiary, Other Values Were Revealed To Us

Until It Seems The Whole City Will Be Covered With Gold Pollen Shaken From The Bell-towers, Lilies Plundered With The Weight Of Massive Bees . . .

Thoth, Hermes, The Stylus, The Palette, The Pen, The Quill Endure, Though Our Books Are A Floor Of Smouldering Ash Under Our Feet.

I Spit Honey Out Of My Mouth: Nothing Is Second-best After The Sweet Of Eros.

The Christos-image Is Most Difficult To Disentangle From Its Art-craft Junk-shop Paint-and-plaster Medieval Jumble Of Pain-worship And Death-symbol.