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330 Some time too limitless to span. Yet when he lifted up his eyes That foam was grey against the skies, That same wild bird was on the wing, That twilight wave was glimmering. And twilight wave and foam and bird Had hardly in his vision stirred Since he had closed his eyes to be Of that majestic company.

And can a second then suffice To hurry us to Paradise? What seemed so endlessly sublime Shrink to a particle of time? Why was the call on Michael made? What charge was on his spirit 1aid And could the way for him be sure Made by excess of light obscure? However fiery is the dream, How faint in life the echoing gleam! And faint was all that happed that day As home he went his dreamy way.

And now has Michael, for his share Of life, the city's dingy air, By the black reek of chimneys smudged O'er the dark warehouse where he drudged, Where for dull life men pay in toll Toil and the shining of the soul. Within his attic he would fret Like a wild creature in a net, And on the darkness he would make The jewel of a little lake, A bloom of fairy blue amid The bronze and purple heather hid; Make battlemented cliffs grow red Where the last rose of day was shed, Be later in rich darkness seen Against a sky of glowing green.