On Must We Go: We Search Dead Leaves, We Chase The Sunset'S Saddest Flames, The Nameless Hues That O'Er And O'Er In Lawless Wedding Lost Their Names. God Of The Daybreak! Better Be Black Savages; And Grin To Gird Our Limbs In Gaudy Rags Of Red, The Laughing-Stock Of Brute And Bird; And Feel Again The Fierce Old Feast, Blue For Seven Heavens That Had Sufficed, A Gold Like Shining Hoards, A Red Like Roses From The Blood Of Christ.