The evening was lonely for me, and I was reading a book till my <br />heart became dry, and it seemed to me that beauty was a thing <br />fashioned by the traders in words. Tired I shut the book and <br />snuffed the candle. In a moment the room was flooded with <br />moonlight. <br />Spirit of Beauty, how could you, whose radiance overbrims the <br />sky, stand hidden behind a candle's tiny flame? How could a few <br />vain words from a book rise like a mist, and veil her whose voice <br />has hushed the heart of earth into ineffable calm?<br /><br />Sir Rabindranath Tagore<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/lover-s-gifts-lvi-the-evening-was-lonely-2/
