A VISION
My thoughts were earthy, and the tainted springsAnd ugly chattels of the city layAlong my path—when, as one doth obeyA subtle call, soul-heard, that instant bringsA voice, a vision of diviner things—I looked, and, lo! the sky, of softest gray,Was radiant with roseate tint and playOf light on clouds like wide, seraphic wings.Then faded all around me while my heartWas fixed on that bright cloudscape, passing fair,Tranquil and shining o’er the sordid martAs tho’ the embodiment of purest prayer.Ah, Master of all Beauty, would that weEach day some vision of Thyself might see!Ingram Crockett.
My thoughts were earthy, and the tainted springsAnd ugly chattels of the city layAlong my path—when, as one doth obeyA subtle call, soul-heard, that instant bringsA voice, a vision of diviner things—I looked, and, lo! the sky, of softest gray,Was radiant with roseate tint and playOf light on clouds like wide, seraphic wings.Then faded all around me while my heartWas fixed on that bright cloudscape, passing fair,Tranquil and shining o’er the sordid martAs tho’ the embodiment of purest prayer.Ah, Master of all Beauty, would that weEach day some vision of Thyself might see!Ingram Crockett.
My thoughts were earthy, and the tainted springsAnd ugly chattels of the city layAlong my path—when, as one doth obeyA subtle call, soul-heard, that instant bringsA voice, a vision of diviner things—I looked, and, lo! the sky, of softest gray,Was radiant with roseate tint and playOf light on clouds like wide, seraphic wings.Then faded all around me while my heartWas fixed on that bright cloudscape, passing fair,Tranquil and shining o’er the sordid martAs tho’ the embodiment of purest prayer.Ah, Master of all Beauty, would that weEach day some vision of Thyself might see!
My thoughts were earthy, and the tainted springs
And ugly chattels of the city lay
Along my path—when, as one doth obey
A subtle call, soul-heard, that instant brings
A voice, a vision of diviner things—
I looked, and, lo! the sky, of softest gray,
Was radiant with roseate tint and play
Of light on clouds like wide, seraphic wings.
Then faded all around me while my heart
Was fixed on that bright cloudscape, passing fair,
Tranquil and shining o’er the sordid mart
As tho’ the embodiment of purest prayer.
Ah, Master of all Beauty, would that we
Each day some vision of Thyself might see!
Ingram Crockett.
Ingram Crockett.