Here you will find the Poem A Picture of poet Ella Wheeler Wilcox
I strolled last eve across the lonely down; One solitary picture struck my eye: A distant ploughboy stood against the sky? How far he seemed above the noisy town! Upon the bosom of a cloud the sod Laid its bruised cheek as he moved slowly by, And, watching him, I asked myself if I In very truth stood half as near to God.
