Dust-Sealed by Ella Wheeler Wilcox — Read

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.