Child before Fire
Poem
Slow my child
Into comfort drawn
The sky is bright
The morn is hell
And God is night
And none are well.
Slow my child
Into comfort drawn
The wood is black
And drink is cold
Yet feel no lack
For God is old.
Notes
- John Tullidge: Utah’s First Music Critic
- The Contribution of Existentialism
- The Wages of Sin in Hawthorne
- An Economic Interpretation of the “Word of Wisdom”
- What Is Humanistic about Modern Art?
- Carl Becker and the Historian as Priest and Prophet
Articles
- The Dead Sea Scrolls and Original Christianity
- The Mormons
- Joseph Smith and World Government
- Among the Mormons
Reviews
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Print ISSN: 2837-0031
Online ISSN: 2837-004X
