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.