There is no faith in what is plain to see,
always doubting, meekly toiling,
those truthful eyes awoke my sinking soul,
a believer in the sullied snow knelt aghast.

A little glimpse of what the saints can see,
changed the route of all there is to bequeath,
My unholy heart is mesmerised by the peace,
that her aura of perfection showered upon me.

Ciarán Kelly

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/an-untold-beauty/