"Then the Silver Sky Came to me. Near the Stream of Life I lie: My couch the rarest flowers; and music thrills My soul! How soft and sweet it sounds from rills And streams, and feathered songsters in the trees Of Heaven's fruits!--e'en all that here doth please The heart of man was there. In a dear spot I lay, 'mid olives, spices, where was wrought A beauteous grotto; and beside me near, Were friends I loved; and one both near and dear With me reclined, in blissful converse, sweet With tender thoughts. Our joy was full, complete! The ministering spirits there had spread Before us all a banquet on the mead, With Heaven's food and nectar for our feast; And oh, so happy! How our joy increased As moments flew, to years without an end! To Courts Refulgent there we oft did wend. "Beside a silver lake, a holy fane There stood within the centre of the plain, High built on terraces, with walls of gold, Where palaces and mansions there enfold A temple of the gods, that stands within 'Mid feathery palms and _gesdin_[1] bowers green, The city rises to a dizzy height, With jewelled turrets flashing in the light, Grand mansions piled on mansions rising high Until the glowing summits reach the sky. A cloud of myriad wings, e'er fills the sky, As doves around their nests on earth here fly; The countless millions of the souls on earth, The gods have brought to light from mortal birth, Are carried there from the dark world of doom; For countless numbers more there still is room. Through trailing vines my Love and I oft wind, With arms of love around each other twined. This day, we passed along the Stream of Life, Through blooming gardens, with sweet odors rife; Beneath the ever-ripening fruits we walk, Along dear paths, and sweetly sing, or talk, While warbling birds around us fly in view, From bloom to bloom with wings of every hue; And large-eyed deer, no longer wild, us pass, With young gazelles, and kiss each other's face. "We now have reached the stately stairs of gold, The city of the gods, here built of old. The pearled pillars rise inlaid divine, With lotus delicately traced with vine In gold and diamonds, pearls, and unknown gems, That wind to capital with blooming stems Of lilies, honeysuckles, and the rose. An avenue of columns in long rows Of varied splendor, leads to shining courts Where skilful spirit hands with perfect arts Have chiselled glorious forms magnificent, With ornate skill and sweet embellishment. Their golden sculpture view on every hand, Or carvèd images in pearl that stand In clusters on the floor, or in long rows; And on the walls of purest pearl there glows The painting of each act of kindest deed Each soul performs on earth;--is there portrayed.