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)