The scarlet stays

When the rose-flush goes,

And love lies low

In a marble tomb.

"'Tis the

NIGHT

Of doom,"

Call the ding-dong doom-bells.

"NIGHT

Of Doom,"

Call the ding-dong doom-bells.

# Sharply interrupting in a very high key. #

Hark how the piccolos still make cheer.

"'Tis a moonlight night in the spring of the year."

# Heavy bass. #

CLANGARANGA, CLANGARANGA,

CLANG . . . CLANG . . . CLANG.

CLANG . . . A . . . RANGA . . .

CLANG . . . A . . . RANGA . . .

CLANG . . . CLANG . . . CLANG . . .

LISTEN . . . TO . . . THE . . . MUSIC . . .

OF . . . THE . . . FIREMEN'S BALL . . .

LISTEN . . . TO . . . THE . . . MUSIC . . .

OF . . . THE . . . FIREMEN'S . . . BALL. . . .

Section Three

In Which, contrary to Artistic Custom, the moral of the piece

is placed before the reader.

(From the first Khandaka of the Mahavagga: "There Buddha

thus addressed his disciples: `Everything, O mendicants, is burning.

With what fire is it burning? I declare unto you it is burning

with the fire of passion, with the fire of anger, with the fire of ignorance.

It is burning with the anxieties of birth, decay and death,

grief, lamentation, suffering and despair. . . . A disciple, . . .

becoming weary of all that, divests himself of passion.

By absence of passion, he is made free.'")

# To be intoned after the manner of a priestly service. #

I once knew a teacher,

Who turned from desire,

Who said to the young men

"Wine is a fire."

Who said to the merchants: --

"Gold is a flame

That sears and tortures

If you play at the game."

I once knew a teacher

Who turned from desire

Who said to the soldiers,

"Hate is a fire."

Who said to the statesmen: --

"Power is a flame

That flays and blisters

If you play at the game."

I once knew a teacher

Who turned from desire,

Who said to the lordly,

"Pride is a fire."

Who thus warned the revellers: --

"Life is a flame.

Be cold as the dew

Would you win at the game

With hearts like the stars,

With hearts like the stars."

# Interrupting very loudly for the last time. #

SO BEWARE,

SO BEWARE,

SO BEWARE OF THE FIRE.

Clear the streets,

BOOM, BOOM,

Clear the streets,

BOOM, BOOM,

GIVE THE ENGINES ROOM,

GIVE THE ENGINES ROOM,

LEST SOULS BE TRAPPED

IN A TERRIBLE TOMB.

SAYS THE SWIFT WHITE HORSE

TO THE SWIFT BLACK HORSE: --

"THERE GOES THE ALARM,

THERE GOES THE ALARM.

THEY ARE HITCHED, THEY ARE OFF,

THEY ARE GONE IN A FLASH,

AND THEY STRAIN AT THE DRIVER'S IRON ARM."

CLANG . . . A . . . RANGA. . . . CLANG . . . A . . . RANGA. . . .

CLANG . . . CLANG . . . CLANG. . . .

CLANG . . . A . . . RANGA. . . . CLANG . . . A . . . RANGA. . . .

CLANG . . . CLANG . . . CLANG. . . .

CLANG . . . A . . . RANGA. . . . CLANG . . . A . . . RANGA. . . .

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