May be seen the Dews among,
Stooping—plucking—smiling&m dash;flying—
Do the Buds to them belong?
Angels, when the sun is hottest
May be seen the sands among,
Stooping—plucking—sighing&m dash;flying—
Parched the flowers they bear along.
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347
And Sunrise grows so nearThat we can touch the Spaces—It’s time to smooth the Hair—And get the Dimples ready—And wonder we could careFor that old—faded Midnight—That frightened—but an Hour—
The Savior must have been
To come so far so cold a DayFor little Fellowmen—The Road to BethlehemSince He and I were BoysWas leveled, but for that ‘twould beA rugged Billion Miles—
558
Of Emerald scant—her Gown—Her Beauty—is the love she doth—Itself—exhibit—Mine&md ash;
385
May be Luxury—On the Heads that started with us—Being’s Peasantry—Recognizing in ProcessionOnes We former knew—When Ourselves were also dusty—Centuries ago—Had the Triumph no ConvictionOf how many be—Stimulated—by the Contrast—Unto Misery—
768
Just the place I stood—At a Window facing West—Roughest Air—was good—Not a Sleet could bite me—Not a frost could cool—Hope it was that kept me warm—Not Merino shawl—When I feared—I recollectJust the Day it was—Worlds were lying out to Sun—Yet how Nature froze—Icicles upon my soulPrickled Blue and Cool—Bird went praising everywhere—Only Me—was still—And the…
464
Until upon my faceThe Judgment push his Picture—Presumptuous of Your Place—Of This—Could Man deprive Me—Himself—the Heaven excel—Whose invitation—Yours reducedUntil it showed too small—