The Iowa Homemaker

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Beauty? Have you seen her rise

In amber colored robes from eastern hill-sides

On a summer's morn,

With night's soft twilight

Still upon her eyes and cool night dew

Yet heavy on her hair?

And have you stood then, filled· with nameless joy,

Such joy that beggared all account

And made of speech a sacrilege;

And have you watched her waken

Till your heart was raised and swelled

With ecstasy unknown before and close akin to pain?

Ah, have you too stood thus

And did you know that there was Beauty?



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