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 ?