The skipping King, he ambled up and down, / With shallow jesters, and rash bavin wits, / Soon kindled and soon burnt, carded his state, / Mingled his royalty with capering fools,

My sauerbraten ($10.95) was a disaster, thin slices of beef drowned in a lake of gravy, and way too sauer, although the accompanying spaetzle were firm and buttery.

In the far off West there is said to be the home of Amida... He is free from the chain of transmigration and enjoys a conscious and happy immortality in ‘Jodo’,—that is, in the Pure Land.

Emblems of past promises for a utopian future and scenes of a present still poisoned by those promises exist on a continuum in these wry but unlaughing, beautifully painted pictures.