THE glint of seraph wings had stirred all day In sunshine round him, till in rapture faint He dreamt an Angel came, and caught away His falling brushes, and began to paint. Till swiftly traced upon the radiant wall Shone Nazareth's little room, as when the prayer "Hail, full of Grace" was uttered first of all; Then Gabriel's self, he knew, was painting there. But when at twilight hour the Brothers came, They saw a picture there so strangely done That one indignant cried aloud, "For shame—" Whilst others veiled their eyes as from the sun. "Nay, our Angelico is surely mad," The Prior mused, "mere senseless stuff it seems."— "Ah, 'tis Our Lady's self,"—a novice lad Exclaimed, "—'tis so she smiles at me in dreams!" Whereat the gentle master woke, and saw How great their trouble and their unbelief,— The praise and quarrelling, the shame and awe That stirred his Brothers, and was filled with grief; And rising, took his brushes once again, And sighed, and trembled, tracing o'er each line:— "Yea, my poor human hand must make it plain!"— And as they looked all hailed the work divine. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A FLORIDA GHOST by SIDNEY LANIER THE BLACK MONKEY by KATHERINE MANSFIELD OLD OSAWATOMIE by CARL SANDBURG |