9/3/2022
There is a beauty that cannot be seen By the myopic vision of the eye. It is a vision that has ever been Descended from the heavens with a sigh Of longing for the planes from which it came And yet aware that earth is its true home, A beauty so divine it has no name But visible to those where Light has come Into the soul and love is known divine, In every stone, in every open flower, It is the seeing of beauty as the sign Of divinity: I hold you in that hour.
Poems Undated (1727)
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