IF all tlest-ed friends I know

    Concentred in one  tleness,

    t still greler till its pulse was less

    For life ty,--I s be slow

    to bring my own  nakedly below

    t he should press

    Motive, condition, means, appliances,

    My false ideal joy and fickle woe,

    Out full to light and knowledge; I should fear

    Some plait bethe brows, some rougher chime

    In t your flood

    Of bitter scorn dash on me ! do ye hear

    I say wime

    ting face to face h GOD ?