Page:An epic of women and other poems (IA epicofwomenother00osha).pdf/37

 On some rich eve—no thing of dread To all his spirit did it seem, To dream on, feeling sweet earth spread Over his head.

But, one long twilight—hushed and dim— The blue unfathomable clime Of heaven seemed wholly to o'erbrim With presence of the Lord—sublime; And voices of the Seraphim Fell through the ether like a chime: He rose: his past way seemed to him Like a child's whim.