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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

I judged my features—jarred my hair
I pushed my dimples by, and waited
If they—twinkled back
Conviction might, of me

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!"