THE COMMONPLACE by NATHALIA CRANE

BY the steps of the paper-box factory,
Or the gates where the Seraphim nod,
In the time and the place that's appointed,
You will meet with your commonplace god.

And then you'll be glad and forever,
For the queens of the East and the West,
With the sets of the Garden of Eden
Have failed in a commonplace quest.

So to you who have dreamed in the starlight,
And to you who have drudged in the town,
And to you of the commonplace vision,
With the beauty the Greeks handed down,

Doubt not that the time is appointed,
That the chart with a quester is girt,
But remember that star-dust is star-dust
And ranks not the commonest dirt;

That the gods of Olympus were beggars
Or ever they burned to create,
And that rags ripple down into samite
For a Venus who swings on a gate;

That the steps of the paper-box factory,
As well as the gardens of kings,
Are only the blue-print devices
Of love, and the commonplace things.

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