 | Poetical works of Ella Wheeler Wilcox |  |
A PICTURE
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!
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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 | |