Wednesday, June 22, 2005

Preacher Killen's Martyrdom

I honestly don't trust myself to say what I feel about the hideous thing which has been inflicted on Preacher Killen in Mississippi. If I were to say what's on my mind it would probably get me a visit from the FBI, and at the moment that's not convenient. At the moment, anyway. So I'll let Rudyard Kipling do my talking for me.

It was not part of their blood,
It came to them very late,
With long arrears to make good,
When the Saxon began to hate.

They were not easily moved,
They were icy -- willing to wait
Till every count should be proved,
Ere the Saxon began to hate.

Their voices were even and low.
Their eyes were level and straight.
There was neither sign nor show
When the Saxon began to hate.

It was not preached to the crowd.
It was not taught by the state.
No man spoke it aloud
When the Saxon began to hate.

It was not suddenly bred.
It will not swiftly abate.
Through the chilled years ahead,
When Time shall count from the date
That the Saxon began to hate.






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