From Blake

And where the Angels, where the Lord
     To lead us home with outstretched arm?
As clouds unfold infernal doom,
     Does God walk here, guide us from harm?

Did we make Christ a circus act,
     With apostles juggling fish?
Does savior who walked on water,
     Now perform as aerialist?

We search the sky for sign of Jesus
     To take us home on his high wire.
But bring us Fish nets to catch us!
     Swing low that Chariot of fire!

I saw towers turn to smokestacks
     And the city skyline blacken
On the day Blake’s Satanic mills
     Spewed dark clouds upon Manhattan.