God permits industrious angels Afternoons to play. I met one, -- forgot my school-mates, All, for him, straightway. . God calls home the angels promptly At the setting sun; I missed mine. How dreary the marbles, After playing Crown! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LA CONDUCTORA DEL DESEO/CONDUIT by VIRGIL SUAREZ SEA-BIRDS by ELIZABETH AKERS ALLEN LINES WRITTEN AT THE GRAVE OF ALEXANDER DUMAS by GWENDOLYN B. BENNETT LAUSANNE: IN GIBBON'S OLD GARDEN by THOMAS HARDY ON THE MEDUSA OF LEONARDO DA VINCI IN THE FLORENTINE GALLERY by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY HESPERIA by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE |