I strolled last eve across the lonely down,
One solitary picture struck my eye,
A distant ploughboy stood against the sky---
How far he seemed, above the noisy town!
Upon the bosom of a cloud the sod
Laid its bruised cheek, as he moved slowly by,
And, watching him, I asked myself if I
In very truth stood half as near to God.
Poetical works of Ella Wheeler Wilcox. by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Edinburgh : W. P. Nimmo, Hay, & Mitchell, 1917.
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