'Death Rides From the Sunset'

THIS is a city walled secure,
Foursquare to foe and bitter weather;
And three inhabitants there are
Dwelling in amity together.
At the south gate the gentle heart
Has taken lodgings of her own;
A quiet garden, fixed apart,
And for love’s entering alone.
Upon the north the studious mind
Sets up a guild, and finds it good.
He welcomes others of his kind,
A strict, polemic brotherhood.
Eastward the contemplative soul
Has built a shrine, in peace and prayer.
Remote and unassailable
She meditates unsistered there.
But all the three keep watch upon
The close-barred gateway to the west . . .
Knowing that it must swing to one
Most certain and impartial guest.