A VISION

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.