Hope


My soul flew like a feather
through the vast domains of God.
It soared beyond the edges
Of the tiny, pinkest cloud.
O let me die at sunset,
When earth's day is tired and worn--
For then the sky, above us,
Is properly adorned
For the coming of a stranger,
And the meeting of a friend,
Who puts glory in the future,
Which will not have an end.

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