Page:Over the river, and other poems.djvu/48

42 We may not hear the songs that echo there Through those enchanted bowers. The city's shining towers we may not see With our dim, earthly vision ; For Death, the silent warder, keeps the key That opes those gates elysian. But sometimes, where adown the western sky The fiery sunset lingers, Its golden gates swing inward noiselessly, Unlocked by silent fingers. And while they stand a moment half ajar, Gleams from the inner glory Stream lightly through the azure vault afar, And half reveal the story.