Mr. Black's Booklet

- - An Interlude - -

But between my Introduction and My Song,
At first I freely say that the Bards of Old
Have spoken Well, and have in faith foretold,
At least in spirit and in part, the Things
That Now Concern us Most! Their Plea Brings
Home to all of us our Present Plight
Which did not spring upon us over-night –
Nor without Earnest Warning fall Full-Grown
As the Sprawling Head of Medusa fell from the Lone
Etherial skies to the Earth, in Greecian Lore!
I do not minimize, but praise the more
These dear Ideals in faith and store that Guide us;
Thank God, for their Works that now abide us!

I
On the bunks of the Winding Chattahoochee, When
Glad Youth was mine - - More than a Dream - - 'Twas
There Within the Life of the quiet Bluff City, in
The Warmth of Alabama's Eufaula - - Ah, here
Did I find the Unction and Name and Theme
Of my Song, and Its Solemn Narration that must bear
The Tidings and Awesome Portents which now I deem
To be woefully Near, even imminent in this Hour,
When Remedy or Ruin must claim the Prosperous Scene!
Oh, Why should it Be? We ask, When Beneath the Bower
Of God's Plenteous Grace, the Gloriously Fruitful Yield
Of Goods and a Haven for Millions Have Been Ours!
To touch the World, the Life, the Times Revealed
The Foreboding Momentum of the Present Weal!

II
Yes, the revelation is so much Clearer
Now: The buoyance of Youth, the overflow
Of fresh ideas, new faces and friends; and Dearer
Were the Nearness of Home, the constant glow
Of Christian Parents, and their Ideals which taught
Their simple Lifestyle - - All of these Combine to Throw
A blinding Screen over an impending On-slaught
Which Now approaches a Culmination! Whether
This Baneful Surge of National Blunders, wraught
By friend and foe, was meant for good, I'd rather
Not say. I treat what Time and Tide have given!
I've lived the History; I speak as a brother!
These Bunglings overshadow the Works of those who've Striven
To Point To Christ, and Repentance Toward God in Heaven!

III
But before I leave this Terza Rima Rhyme,
Used so nobly by Shelley, as He Prayed to The West Wind,
I humbly Urge AII People, while there's Time,
To Pray Thus Fervently To Christ and Find
In Him, God's Only Son, Remission for their Sin
And Power to Overcome All Foes! The Blind
And Failing Humanistic Dreams of Careless Men
In Power Today have shamed and marred the Claim
Of Civilization! Some Intellectuals in
Pride seem out to stultify and stain
The minds of the Business World. The Populace then,
Confused, Dismayed, are bound within the Strain
Of the Human Intellect that Must Yield When
God's Love Alone in Man can Win over Sin!

IV
The Wild West Wind, O Shelley. That drew from your Heart
This Ardent Prayer, using the Power of Nature,
Cannot Actuate your Being, take Your Part,
Nor "Quicken a New birth"! The rapture
Which this Mighty Force did seem to you to have,
Even in Angelic Hands Can't Capture
This Holy Praise! For Christ Alone doth Save;
His Blood Alone for Sin atones and Can
Set Free the Soul, Complete the Whole! The Tention
Then removed, the New Creations Stand,
Born Again! O Blessed Mankind! Inventions,
Technology, strategy, knowledge are Not the Plan!
Man's intellectual powers we gladly Mention
With respect, but Guarding, always, Man's Intention!

V
Ah, the Vain Struggle with the "Uncontrollable''! - -
The Unseen Power "o'er Wave, o'er Leaf, o've Cloudl'' - -
But Rejection of Him Who Is Altogether Lovable!
Who Breaketh Not the Bruised Reed! For Proud
Rebuff of envious torturing hand He Prays
Forgiveness! To the Multitude So Loud
He Cried, "Come unto Me and Drink'' that They,
Might quench their Dying Thirst and Eat the Bread
Of Life! Indeed there is No Other Way!
Of Old the Truth was said. "As a Lamb He was" led
"To the slaughter" "Reviled, He reviled Not Again! ''
Oh take this Bread and Let your Soul be Fed!
This is the Moses Message to Mortal Men - -
That Jesus Paid the Price for All Our Sin!

(Interlude continues)
The Talks and Orations for Peace had Failed! The Prince
Of Orators had Resigned his Post, convinced
That Useless War Cannot Prevail for Good,
but only Delay the March of Brotherhood!
The Tears of a Great and Honored President
Had begun to fall into the Turbulent Stream
Of Mourning, which flows, Unabated, from age to age!
Our Country Was In War! A lad, sixteen,
I began, not only to read, but to Live Its History
To Deplore the World-Wide Tragedy
And Horrendous Weapontries devised for war and
Of its Deceiving Aftermath, Unceasing
Propaganda - - ruthless Lies for any goal

Ostensibly good or bad - - framed Deception
Leading to Future Conflicts! Historians in bold
Assertions and under a cloak of so-called research
And Humanistic Pride have written cold
Accounts which Cloud the Truth and Deny
The Total Depravity of Man! They Vie
To build a Tower to Penetrate the Lofty
Heights of Peace! Oh, hear the Words so Softly
Spoken: "Except the Lord Build the House
They Labour in Vain Who build it"! Hold Fast
His Word: "I am the First . . . l Am the Last"!
So now I'll sing My Song, His Power lent
To humbly Lift the Word in Person and in Print: