Roars out a moment at our narrow door As through its blaze we fly, then dies away, Casting a weird and momentary gleam Over the Angel’s unrelenting face; A meteor tears its whizzing way along, All showering off the scintillating sparks That mark its trail. Far off, a comet runs Its bended course, the mighty fan-like tail Lit with a myriad globes of dancing fire, That seemed like Argus’ eyes on Juno’s bird. And on we sped, till one last Sun appeared, A monstrous hemisphere of concave shape, And brilliancy intense; it seemed to stand On great Creation’s bounds, a lense of light. Close by its vast red rim we shaved, and passed Beyond, to empty space unoccupied. No world, no sun, no object passed the door; The steady blue, tinged with a brightening gold, Alone was seen. Still on and on we flew, Until a score of ages seemed elapsed, And I had near forgotten Earth and home. And yet the air grew brighter, till I feared That we approached a sun, so infinite In light, that I should sink in dazzled death. We came to rest, the curtains fell away, And lo! I stood within the light of Heaven. And oh! its glorious light! No angry red, Nor blinding white, nor sickly yellow glare, But one vast golden flood, sublime, serene, No object near, on which it could reflect, It formed the very atmosphere itself, An air in which the soul could bathe and breathe, And ever live without its fleshly food. No object near, for on the farthest bounds Of space immense as mortal can conceive, Creation hung, a group of clustering motes, Where only suns were seen as tiny specks, And Earth and smaller stars were out of sight. No object near, for farther than the motes, The walls of Heaven, in glorious grandeur loomed, Yet near as flesh and blood could bear. How grand! From infinite to infinite extent The glittering battlements were spread, the height Above conception, built of purest gold, Yet gold transparent, for I could discern Though indistinctly, domes and spires beyond, And all the wondrous workmanship divine, That blazed with jewels, flashing varied hues In perfect union; and bright happy fields, That bloomed with flowers immortal, in whose midst The crystal river ran. And through the scenes Thronged million forms, that each sought happiness, From million varied, purified desires. Each face serenely bright as Evening’s star, And some I thought I knew, were dear to me; But as I gazed, they ever disappeared.