Sometimes a moment of the highest grace –
which comes as unannounced as does our sleep –
allows our vision, resting on some face,
from the familiar, pass to unknown deep:
and there, beyond the contours made by thought
is shown to us a finer, nobler brow;
magnificent, heroic, wise; yet not –
and this so moving – far from whom we know;
this wonder makes me humble; questioning
what duty might this vision lay on me,
who’s seen that self in self’s own fashioning:
am I to act, or simply let it be?
But this is certain: all man’s self-respect
be known, should self in others so reflect.
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