Every slum had sent its half a score The round world over. (Booth had groaned for more). - Every banner that the wide world flies Bloomed with glory and transcendent dyes. Big-voiced lasses made their banjos bang; Tranced, fanatical, they shrieked and sang: Are you washed in the Blood of the Lamb? Hallelujah! It was queer to see Bull-necked convicts with that land make free. Loons with trumpets blowed a blare, blare, blare On, on, upward through the golden air. (Are you washed in the Blood of the Lamb?) Booth died blind, and still by faith he trod, Eyes still dazzled by the ways of God. Booth led boldly and he looked the chief: Eagle countenance in sharp relief, Beard a-flying, air of high command Unabated in that holy land. Jesus came from out the court-house door, Stretched His hands above the passing poor. Booth saw not, but led his queer ones there, Round and round the mighty court-house square. Yet in an instant all that blear review Marched on spotless, clad in raiment new. The lame were straightened, withered limbs uncurled, And blind eyes opened on a new, sweet world. Drabs and vixens in a flash made whole! Gone was the weasel-head, the snout, the jowl; Sages and sibyls now, and athletes clean, Rulers of empires and of forest green! The hosts were sandalled and their wings were fire (Are you washed in the Blood of the Lamb?) But their noise played havoc with the angel choir. (Are you washed in the Blood of the Lamb?) O shout salvation! It was good to see Kings and princes by the Lamb set free. The banjos rattled, and the tambourines Jing-jing-jingled in the hands of queens. And when Booth halted by the kerb for prayer He saw his Master through the flag-filled air. Christ came gently with a robe and crown For Booth the soldier, while the throng knelt down. He saw King Jesus. They were face to face, And he knelt a-weeping in that holy place. Are you washed in the Blood of the Lamb? NICHOLAS VACHEL LINDSAY (1879-1931)
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