Walking in beauty as we are, sun-gold, moonsilver ever in our eyes. Treading on flowers, breathing perfumed air, We do forget what loveliness is ours, what treasures lies Quick to our hands until, all unaware We come to a sudden corner, face the sea and clouds, a stretch of sky, Burning with color, drenched with glory. So, As one, walking asleep with open eyes, wakens to a cry We waken to a beauty which we saw and did not know. Dwellers in Far Islands - Don Blanding (1894-1957)