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Show THE THEATRE THE roar of the smoking world, the rage of the bleeding year, The reeking sin and sorrow, they do not enter here. Here Peace still finds a temple to wait the dawning Truth Here still the Hour holds solace for unforgetting Youth. Here Love still meets with Laughter to make the earth divine, Here Harlequin, immortal, still finds his Columbine. The dripping Death whose shadow lies red in every clime Is here a sombre legend that haunts an ancient time. Here Pierrot, still pursuing the glamorous glam-orous Pierrette, Bids those who dare, remember, and those who must, forget. Here, while the hosts of Horror, , the lands incarnadine, A deathless Art keeps burning the lamps at Beauty's shrine. What though the jest andjester, as mortal service must, Be sometimes less than worthy of tho Immortal trust .) Here, still through all the tempqsl, the peaceful tapers gleam. ' Serene upon the altar of an eternal Dream. By Samuel Hoffenstein The Omaha Oma-ha EXC"1 v. |