Oh, A Day In The City-square, There

Get Work, Get Work; Be Sure 'tis Better Than What You Work To Get.

God Keeps A Niche In Heaven, To Hold Our Idols; And Albeit He Brake Them To Our Faces, And Denied That Our Close Kisses Should Impair Their White,-- I Know We Shall Behold Them Raised, Complete, The Dust Swept From Their Beauty, Glorified, New Memnons Singing In The Great God-light.

When We First Met And Loved, I Did Not Build Upon The Event With Marble. . . .

The Soul Hath Snatched Up Mine All Faint And Weak,and Placed It By Thee On A Golden Throne,-- And That I Love (o Soul, We Must Be Meek!)is By Thee Only, Whom I Love Alone.

Nor Myrtle--which Means Chiefly Love: And Love Is Something Awful Which One Dare Not Touch So Early O' Mornings.