And Lips Say “god Be

O Death, O Beyond, Thou Art Sweet, Thou Art Strange!

They Say That God Lives Very High! But If You Look Above The Pines You Cannot See Our God. And Why? And If You Dig Down In The Mines You Never See Him In The Gold, Though From Him All That's Glory Shines. God Is So Good, He Wears A Fold Of Heaven And Earth Across His Face - Like Secrets Kept, For Love, Untold. But Still I Feel That His Embrace Slides Down By Thrills, Through All Things Made, Through Sight And Sound Of Every Place: As If My Tender Brother Laid On My Shut Lids, Her Kisses' Pressure, Half Waking Me At Night; And Said, "who Kissed Through The Dark, Dear Guesser?"

Every Age, Through Being Beheld Too Close, Is Ill-discerned By Those Who Have Not Lived Past It.

O Brave Poets, Keep Back Nothing; Nor Mix Falsehood With The Whole! Look Up Godward! Speak The Truth In Worthy Song From Earnest Soul! Hold, In High Poetic Duty, Truest Truth The Fairest Beauty.

And Chaucer, With His Infantine Familiar Clasp Of Things Divine.