LIGHT
Hills that are bleak and bare
Lit by the light of noon,
Grow like a vision rare
In radiance of the moon.
So have I seen thy face,
Beautiful ever, lit
By some informing grace
Which all transfigured it.
Hills that are bleak and bare
Lit by the light of noon,
Grow like a vision rare
In radiance of the moon.
So have I seen thy face,
Beautiful ever, lit
By some informing grace
Which all transfigured it.