Sistine Madonna

Before such wonder-widened eyes
What visions are unfurled,
And breathing on that perfect brow
Winds of what fairer world?

Not form so rare, not Holy child
Enthralls each age to thee,
But heavenly airs you seem to hear,
The things you seem to see.

Wine of a beauty-famished earth,
Bread of mortality,
A Being in you calm and full,
Swells like a moon-drawn sea.

Though an immortal symbol
Of that Great Miracle,
You lift to an adoring world,
Not Christ, but Raphael.

^__Elizabeth N. Barr.

The High Winds of Home
Elizabeth N. Barr
(Olathe: privately published. 1922)
Page 17