The lightning stood a sentinel. My steed Was passport, and I passed within, but stopped Upon the threshold, dumb with awe. The walls Seemed blazing mirrors, whose bright polished sides “Threw back in flaming lineaments” the form Of every object there,--a trembling wretch, With pallid countenance, shown ghastly red, Upon a horse of War’s own direful hue, I saw reflected there. The floor seemed made Of tesselated froth, whose bubbles burst, With constant hissing, into rainbow sparks; While like the sulph’rous canopy, that drapes, At evening’s close, a gory battle-field, The roof of crimson vapor drooped and rose, With every breath and every slightest sound. And in the center of the glowing room, Upon a sapphire throne an Angel sat, Upon whose brow Rebuke and Wisdom met. He gazed upon me with such pitying look, And yet withal so stern, that all my pride Was gone, and humble as a conquered child, I ran with trembling haste and near the throne Kneeled down. “Vain man,” he said, “and hast thou dared To doubt the providence of God; Behold!” And, lo! one side of the pavilion rose, And out before me lay Immensity. The frothy floor, now crumbling from the edge, Dissolved away close to my very feet, The walls contracted their three sides in one, And I, beside a throne I dared not grasp, Stood on a narrow ledge of fragile foam, That clicked its thousand little globes of air, With every motion of my feet. Far down Below, the black abyss of chaos yawned, So vast, I gasped while gazing, and so deep, The Sun’s swift arrowy rays flash down for years, And scarcely reach the dark confines, or fade Amid the impenetrable gloom. Methought ’Twas Hell’s wide jaws, that opened underneath The Universe, to catch as crumbs the worlds Condemned, and shaken from their orbit’s track. And long I looked into the vast black throat, To trace the murky glow of hidden fire, Or catch the distant roar. But all was still; No murmur broke the silence of its gloom, No faintest glimmer told of lurking light, No smoky volumes curdled in its depths; As dark as Egypt’s plague, serenely calm, Defying light, the empty hall of Space, Where twinkled not a star nor blazed a sun.-- A grand eternal night! I shuddering turned, With freezing blood to think of falling there, And stretched a palsied hand to touch the throne. The Angel’s eye was sterner, as he waved Towards my steed, who seemed of marble carved. The wings unfolded, and he leaped in air, Beating from off the ledge the flakes of foam That sank, with airy spirals, out of sight. With slanting flight across the gulf he sheared; The moveless wings were not extended straight, But stood, at graceful angle, o’er his back,