But wait—wait—wait.—

Till, when you'd have to go to sleep

Or else you'd have to die,[Pg 64]

[Pg 64]

They let you Out,—and straight into

The Sky!

With nests all hiding up the Trees,

And Roads to make you Run:—

And everything like Squirrels!—

In the Sun—the Sun!

[Pg 42]

Angels

hey are more shy than Snow.

You may look up and try to see one there,

Just when you feel It breathing on your hair;

But then It has to go.—

Somehow, I know.

They want you to believe

How bright they are, and never try to see

Whether they keep their word. For that would be

 Prev. P 32/39 next