One more day of common brightness,
Nothing new in earth or sky,
Same old valleys, same old mountains,
Common to the common eye.
But, as Moses looked that morning,
Things were not the same to him,
Earth was rich in sound and glory,
Full, and running o’er the brim;
Trees rose up aflame before him,
Voices echoed through the skies—
On that day his spirit listened,
And His soul looked through his eyes.

This was why he stayed in Midian,
To and fro its pastures trod,
Through long years of weary waiting,
Waiting for himself, not God.
What avails that He should meet us,
If our eyes are closed, or bound;
What avails His calling, calling,
If we hear no voice, nor sound?
All the universe is silent,
Blank and dead the old world lies,
Till we listen with our spirits
And our souls see through our eyes.

Moses found himself in Midian,
Came to hearing, came to sight,
All the great deeps of his being
Rose that morning to full height.
He had learned how near Jehovah
To a mortal man can be,
Heard His voice across a desert,
Saw His glory in a tree;
All the world will weave around us
Sights and sounds of Paradise,
When we listen with our spirits
And our souls look through our eyes.

There, to Moses, seemed that desert
Like a stretch of Heaven’s street,
For he bowed low in the glory,
Took the sandals from his feet,
Rose, and gazed straight on, and answered,
God still looking in his face,
And was not afraid to meet Him
Out there in a lonely place.
For the voice of God is tender,
And all fear within us dies,
When we listen with our spirits,
And we see with clearer eyes.

God has not gone into hiding,
Nor in silence molds His thought,
Only to the eye that’s holden,
And the ear that hears Him not.
That same bush had flamed with glory
Other days as on the last,
But the man saw the rude outline
Of a common tree—and passed.
So we miss the glow of beauty,
Hear no accents deep and wise,
Till we listen with our spirits,
And we see with other eyes.

All the flowers along the valleys,
All the mountains, forest plumed,
Sun and star, and men and angels,
Stand in fire and unconsumed,
Speech, divine as any written
In the ancient, sacred word,
Now is spoken all around us,
And can be anywhere be heard.
But the silence is unbroken,
And the light beyond us flies,
Till we listen with our spirits
And see farther with our eyes.

There are men, as man is measured,
Walking daily on the streets,
Who see but a silver dollar,
And hear when a big drum bears;
Trees are worth so much as timber,
Mountains, for the wealth they hold;
They would trade in air and sunshine,
If these could be bought and sold.
Earth is but a money market,
God has vanished from their skies,
For the spirit shrinks within them;
There’s no soul behind their eyes.

Alfred J. Hough
Egyptian Melodies, 1911