As a well-kept lamp, held o'er
Place, dark and ugly
Bearing this brightness of soul's
Beauty-lit instinct
You'll need. If as clear, close
Shows it yet distinct.
For as one blind, forgetful
In that world, of this
All from birth stagger about;
Ever dispirited.
A bloom, a blush. Truth, source, - home!
Back through each one led.
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