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 flowerlike grace."
They answer in amused surprise:
    "We thought it such a common face."

I say, "Was ever scene 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.

Poetical works of Ella Wheeler Wilcox. by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Edinburgh : W. P. Nimmo, Hay, & Mitchell, 1917.

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