The New Zealand Railways Magazine, Volume 13, Issue 4 (July 1, 1938.)
The sky was a prophet of violence,
A mirror of blood.
Crimson deep, in the West,
And I feared lest The green of the grass At my feet And the peace and the sweet That was life,
Should be mirrored in blood.
Crimson deep, in the West—The sky was a prophet of violence.