Dust-Sealed

I know not wherefore, but mine eyes See bloom, where other eyes see blight. They find a rainbow, a sunrise, Where others but discern deep night.

Men call me an enthusiast, And say I look through gilded haze: Because where’er my gaze is cast, I see something that calls for praise.

I say, “Behold those lovely eyes— That tinted cheek of flower-like grace.” They answer in amused surprise: “We thought it a common face.”

I say, “Was ever seen more fair? I seem to walk in Eden’s bowers.” They answer, with a pitying air, “The weeds are choking out the flowers.”

I know not wherefore, but God lent A deeper vision to my sight. On whatsoe’er my gaze is bent I catch the beauty Infinite;

That underlying, hidden half That all things hold of Deity. So let the dull crowd sneer and laugh— Their eyes are blind, they cannot see.