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The Book of the Little Past

Angels

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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 As if they could deceive. That makes them grieve. So, if you want Yours near, And hide your eyes and keep quite still; and say, "Oh, I have Wanted you all day—all day; Shine at me, Angel, dear!" It will be Here.

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