But I saw his blue eyes looking elsewhere,
Like one who was trying to see.
He had come from a hut without windows,
A mud hut with only a door,
Yet his face was the face of the Saviour,
And I fain would speak to him more.
So I stopped, for his smile had a sweetness
That entered the gates of my soul;
I was hungry to know where it came from,
That I might its wonders extol.