338 I know that He exists. Somewhere—in Silence— He has hid his rare life From our gross eyes. `Tis an instant`s play. `Tis a fond Ambush— Just to make Bliss Earn her own surprise! But—should the play Prove piercing earnest— Should the glee—glaze— In Death`s—stiff—stare— Would not the fun Look too expensive! Would not the jest— Have crawled too far!SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
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