Seth heard; and like a swift, fond bird he flew, By filial love impelled; yea, lessened dread Even of the guardian Fiery Angel knew-- And through the flowery plains untiring sped-- And upwards, onwards to the river-head-- Where, high to heaven, the verdant barriers towered Of Eden; when he sank--o'ercanopied With sudden lightning, which around him showered, And in its vivid womb the midday sun devoured. XII. And in his ear and on his heart was poured, While there entranced he lay, an answer meet; And, gradually, as Thought came back restored, Uprising, forth he hied with homeward feet. Sweet to the world's grey Father, oh how sweet His coming on the nearest hill-top shone! For now all feebly of his heart the beat Returned; and of his voice the faltering tone, Meeting the listener's ear, scarce made its purpose known. XIII. "Beloved father!" thus 'twas through his grief Impassioned spake the son, "it may not be, Alas! that, for thy misery's relief Wells now the promised balsam from Life's Tree. And must I say farewell--yea, part with thee?-- Droop not thus all despairing: breath may fail, And days and years and ages onward flee Ere that day dawn; but Thou its beams shalt hail, And earth give up its dead, and Life o'er Death prevail. XIV. "Astounding are the visions I have seen: The clouds took shapes, and turned them into trees And men and mountains; and the lands between Seemed cities, dun with crowds; and on the seas Dwelt men, in arks careering with the breeze; And shepherds drave their flocks along the plain; And generations, smitten with disease, Passed to the dust, on which tears fell like rain; Yet fathers, in their sons, seemed age grown youth again! XV. "And the wide waters rose above the tops Of the high hills, and all looked desolate-- Sea without shore! Anon appeared the slopes, Glowing with blossoms, and a group elate Eying an arch, bright with earth's future fate, In heaven; and there were wanderings to and fro; And, while beneath the multitudes await, Tables, by God's own finger written, show The Law by which He wills the world should walk below: XVI. "And ever passed before me clouds of change, Whose figures rose, and brightened, and declined; And what was now familiar straight grew strange, And, melting into vapours, left behind No trace; and, as to silence sank the wind, Appeared in heaven a beautiful bright star, Under whose beams an Infant lay reclined; And all the wheels of nature ceased their jar, And choiring angels hymned that Presence from afar. XVII.