God permit industrious angels Afternoons to play. I met one,—forgot my school-mates, All, for him, straightaway. God calls home the angels promptly

390 It’s coming—the postponeless Crea… It gains the Block—and now—it gai… Chooses its latch, from all the ot… Enters—with a “You know Me—Sir”?

My life closed twice before its cl… It yet remains to see If Immortality unveil A third event to me So huge, so hopeless to conceive

425 Good Morning’—Midnight’— I’m coming Home’— Day’—got tired of Me’— How could I’—of Him?

142 Whose are the little beds, I aske… Which in the valleys lie? Some shook their heads, and others… And no one made reply.

722 Sweet Mountains—Ye tell me no lie… Never deny Me—Never fly— Those same unvarying Eyes Turn on Me—when I fail—or feign,

Judgment is justest When the Judged, His action laid away, Divested is of every Disk But his sincerity.

“Morning”—means “Milking”—to the… Dawn—to the Teneriffe— Dice—to the Maid— Morning means just Risk—to the Lo… Just revelation—to the Beloved—