Classic Poem

Who hath no moods for beauty doth not know
The inward greatness of this moving world.
My heart was troubled with the care of life
And mine own driven nature, when I came
Out to a place where 'mid the roofs of trees,
A single gleam, the evening sky shone through
In simple beauty, and it seemed as though
Once more as in the child-like olden days
When earth's folk dreamed God's windows opened wide
And let in heaven. Thus it seemed to me,
For on my soul a sweetness and a calm
Fell like a mantle; and the joy of one
Who hearkens to inward music; all the world
Seemed in an instant changed: the garish streets
Were no more common; even the woes of men
Assumed a greatness, and mine own dread care
Grew dim, remote, a part of yesterday.
It is a marvel how this magic works,
That nature hath such influence over men,
To raise them from the common, and redeem
The soul from sordid evils, lift to beauty,
Build o'er our life a splendid weft of dream,
By one small rift of dawn or night divine.