Sick of myself and all that keeps the light <br />Of the wide heavens away from me and mine, <br />I climb this ledge, and by this wind-swept pine <br />Lingering, watch the coming of the night: <br />'Tis ever a new wonder to my sight. <br />Men look to God for some mysterious sign, <br />For other stars than such as nightly shine, <br />For some unwonted symbol of His might. <br />Wouldst see a miracle not less than those <br />The Master wrought of old in Galilee? <br />Come watch with me the azure turn to rose <br />In yonder West, the changing pageantry, <br />The fading alps and archipelagoes, <br />And spectral cities of the sunset-sea.<br /><br />Thomas Bailey Aldrich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/miracles-6/