Sonnet VIII By Alan Seeger

    Oft as by chance, a little while apart
    The pall of empty, loveless hours withdrawn,
    Sweet Beauty, opening on the impoverished heart,
    Beams like the jewel on the breast of dawn:
    Not though high heaven should rend would deeper awe
    Fill me than penetrates my spirit thus,
    Nor all those signs the Patmian prophet saw
    Seem a new heaven and earth so marvelous;
    But, clad thenceforth in iridescent dyes,
    The fair world glistens, and in after days
    The memory of kind lips and laughing eyes
    Lives in my step and lightens all my face, – 
    So they who found the Earthly Paradise
    Still breathed, returned, of that sweet, joyful place.