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Great things are done when Men & Mountains meet
This is not Done by jostling in the Street
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Grief is a Mouse —
And chooses Wainscot in the Breast
For His Shy House —
And baffles quest —
Grief is a Thief — quick startled —
Pricks His Ear — report to hear
Of that Vast Dark —
That swept His Being — back —
Grief is a Juggler — boldest at the Play —
...Had I not seen the Sun
I could have borne the shade
But Light a newer Wilderness
My Wilderness has made —Had I not This, or This, I said,
Appealing to Myself,
In moment of prosperity —
Inadequate — were Life —
"Thou hast not Me, nor Me" — it said,
In Moment of Reverse —
"And yet Thou art industrious —
No need — hadst Thou — of us"?
My need — was all I had — I said —...Had I presumed to hope —
The loss had been to Me
A Value — for the Greatness' Sake —
As Giants — gone away —
Had I presumed to gain
A Favor so remote —
The failure but confirm the Grace
In further Infinite —
'Tis failure — not of Hope —
But Confident...Had we known the Ton she bore
We had helped the terror
But she straighter walked for Freight
So be hers the error —Hail, sovereign love, which first began
The scheme to rescue fallen man!
Hail, matchless, free, eternal grace,
That gave my soul a Hiding Place!
Against the God who built the sky,
I fought with hands uplifted high,
Despised the mention of His grace,
Too proud to seek a Hiding Place....Have any like Myself
Investigating March,
New Houses on the Hill descried —
And possibly a Church —
That were not, We are sure —
As lately as the Snow —
And are Today — if We exist —
Though how may this be so?
Have any like Myself
Conjectured Who may be...Have you got a brook in your little heart,
Where bashful flowers blow,
And blushing birds go down to drink,
And shadows tremble so ?
And nobody knows, so still it flows,
That any brook is there ;
And yet your little...