Song lyrics
by Robert Browning
Such a starved bank of moss
Till, that May-morn
Blue ran the flash across:
Violets were born!
Sky -- what a scowl of cloud
Till, near and far
Ray on ray split the shroud:
Splendid, a star!
World -- how it walled about
Life with disgrace
Till God's own smile came out:
That was thy face!