"She trips along the street, a flashing wonder, Dazzling enigma! Courtesan or maid? Temple of chastity, or hall of trade? An angel-presence, or a soul of plunder Casting the doors of sanctitude asunder? A beauteousness, by love and laughter swayed, Or death in immemorial masquerade? A dainty dawn-song, or a snarl of thunder?"
Bartlett Adamson

January 1, 1970