I tell you, friend, that God shall grant
This night to you your dearest want.

THE BLIND MAN

Why this sweet odour? Why this flame?
I am afraid. What is your name?

THE STRANGER

Ask your desire, for this great night
Is passing.

THE BLIND MAN

Sir, I ask my sight.

THE STRANGER

To see this earth? Or would you see
That hidden world which sent you me?

THE BLIND MAN

O sweet it were but once before I die
To track the bird about the windy sky,
Or watch the soft and changing grace
Imprinted on a human face.
Yet grant me that which most I struggled for,
Since I am old, and snow is on the ground.