Page:Poems Angier.djvu/233

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THE VEILED HOPE.
219
How long?—the Future question not—
Its dark or bright unfolding
Entrust to One—the Sculptor wise,
Whose chisel souls is moulding.

When Death's white hand the curtain lifts,
Perchance his Heaven-sent mission
May be in fairer clime to give
Thy now veiled hope—fruition.