| I felt my life with both my hands
|
| To see if it was there
|
| I held my spirit to the Glass,
|
| To prove it possibler
|
| I turned my Being round and round
|
| And paused at every pound
|
| To ask the Owner’s name
|
| For doubt, that I should know the Sound
|
| To ask the Owner’s name
|
| For doubt, that I should know the Sound
|
| I judged my features, jarred my hair
|
| I pushed my dimples by,
|
| and waited, if they twinkled back
|
| Conviction might, of me
|
| I turned my Being round and round
|
| And paused at every pound
|
| To ask the Owner’s name
|
| For doubt, that I should know the Sound
|
| To ask the Owner’s name
|
| For doubt, that I should know the Sound
|
| I told myself, «Take Courage, Friend,
|
| That was a former time
|
| But we might learn to like the Heaven,
|
| As well as our Old Home!»
|
| I turned my Being round and round and round
|
| And paused at every pound
|
| To ask the Owner’s name
|
| For doubt, that I should know the Sound
|
| To ask the Owner’s name
|
| For doubt, that I should know the Sound
|
| I felt my life with both my hands
|
| To see if it was there |