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 My period had come for Prayer -- by Emily Dickinson 
						My period had come for Prayer --No other Art -- would do --
 My Tactics missed a rudiment --
 Creator -- Was it you?
 
 God grows above -- so those who pray
 Horizons -- must ascend --
 And so I stepped upon the North
 To see this Curious Friend --
 
 His House was not -- no sign had He --
 By Chimney -- nor by Door
 Could I infer his Residence --
 Vast Prairies of Air
 
 Unbroken by a Settler --
 Were all that I could see --
 Infinitude -- Had'st Thou no Face
 That I might look on Thee?
 
 The Silence condescended --
 Creation stopped -- for Me --
 But awed beyond my errand --
 I worshipped -- did not "pray" --
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