LIFE
I fitted to the latchMy hand, with trembling care,Lest back the awful door should spring,And leave me standing there.
I moved my fingers offAs cautiously as glass,And held my ears, and like a thiefFled gasping from the house.
LXXX
PRAYER is the little implementThrough which men reachWhere presence is denied them.They fling their speech
By means of it in God’s ear;If then He hear,This sums the apparatusComprised in prayer.
LXXXI
I KNOW that he existsSomewhere, in silence.He has hid his rare lifeFrom our gross eyes.
[45]
