696
Their Height in Heaven comforts not-
Their Glory-nought to me-
'Twas best imperfect-as it was-
I'm finite-I can't see-
The House of Supposition-
The Glimmering Frontier that
Skirts the Acres of Perhaps-
To Me-shows insecure-
The Wealth I had-contented me-
If 'twas a meaner size-
Then I had counted it until
It pleased my narrow Eyes-
Better than larger values-
That show however true-
This timid life of Evidence
Keeps pleading-”I don't know.”