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Poem	Upon his way to rob a Bank He paused to watch a fire; Though crowds were pressing rank on rank He pushed a passage nigher; Then sudden heard, piercing and wild, The screaming of a child. A Public Enemy was he, A hater of the law; He looked around for bravery But only fear he saw; Then to the craven crowds amaze He plunged into the blaze. How anguished was the waiting spell Of horror and of pain! Then--then from out that fiery hell He staggered forth again: The babe was safe, in blankets wrapt, The man flame lapt. His record was an evil one, Of violence and sin. No good on earth he'd ever done, Yet--may he Heaven win! A gangster he . . . Is it not odd? --With guts of God.
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