Page:Poems PiattVol2.djvu/114

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102

TRANSFIGURED.

Ah, this was she in veriest truth—
Transcendant face and haloed hair.
The beauty of divinest youth,
Divinely beautiful, was there.

Herself into her picture passed—
Herself and not her poor disguise,
Made up of time and dust. . . . At last
One saw her with the Master's eyes.