I, Who Thought To Sink, Was Caught

I, Who Had Had My Heart Full For Hours, Took Advantage Of An Early Moment Of Solitude, To Cry In It Very Bitterly. Suddenly A Little Hairy Head Thrust Itself From Behind My Pillow Into My Face, Rubbing Its Ears And Nose Against Me In A Responsive Agitation, And Drying The Tears As They Came.

Or From Browning Some "pomegranate," Which If Cut Deep Down The Middle Shows A Heart Within Blood-tinctured, Of A Veined Humanity.

The Denial Of Contemporary Genius Is The Rule Rather Than The Exception. No One Counts The Eagles In The Nest, Till There Is A Rush Of Wings; And Lo! They Are Flown.

There, That Is Our Secret: Go To Sleep! You Will Wake, And Remember, And Understand.

They Say That God Lives Very High! But If You Look Above The Pines You Cannot See Our God. And Why? And If You Dig Down In The Mines You Never See Him In The Gold, Though From Him All That's Glory Shines. God Is So Good, He Wears A Fold Of Heaven And Earth Across His Face - Like Secrets Kept, For Love, Untold. But Still I Feel That His Embrace Slides Down By Thrills, Through All Things Made, Through Sight And Sound Of Every Place: As If My Tender Brother Laid On My Shut Lids, Her Kisses' Pressure, Half Waking Me At Night; And Said, "who Kissed Through The Dark, Dear Guesser?"