If you have access to a good photo of Long (head-and-shoulders, at least 200×300 pixels), would you send us an e-mail?
There were sleeping virgins lying
Just outside the festal door;
And they murmured in their dreaming,
Time enough, full time, and more,
But the cry rang,
Lo, the Bridegroom
Cometh quickly to the feast-room!
Go to meet Him—Go!
Turn from sin, turn from sorrow
For there is no tomorrow!
Your lamps are gone out,
And no oil can you borrow—
Prepare to meet thy God!
Then they rose and hastened forward,
From the thrall of dreams released;
Those with burning lamps to enter
With the Bridegroom to the feast;
But the others stood benighted,
With their empty lamps unlighted—
And the doorway shut.
Rouse ye from your sleep, O dreamers,
While the door stands open wide,
Fill your lamps, and trim them, light them—
You can have no light beside.
Then into the realms immortal
You shall enter thro’ the portal,
Ere the door is shut.