brought,
  The choicest products of his herds and fields,
  This grateful food met nature’s every need,
  Diffused a healthful glow through all his frame,
  And all the body’s eager yearnings stilled. 
  Seven days he sat, and ate no more nor drank,
  Yet hungered not, nor burned with parching thirst,
  For heavenly manna fed his hungry soul—­
  Its wants were satisfied, the body’s ceased. 
  Seven days he sat, in sweet internal peace
  Waiting for light, and sure that light would come,
  When seeming scales fell from his inner sight,
  His spirit’s eyes were opened and he saw
  Not far away, but near, within, above,
  As dwells the soul within this mortal frame,
  A world within this workday world of ours,
  The living soul of all material things.

  Eastward he saw a never-setting Sun,
  Whose light is truth, the light of all the worlds,
  Whose heat is tender, all-embracing love,
  The inmost Life of everything that lives,
  The mighty Prototype and primal Cause
  Of all the suns that light this universe,
  From ours, full-orbed, that tints the glowing east
  And paints the west a thousand varied shades,
  To that far distant little twinkling star
  That seems no larger than the glow-worm’s lamp,
  Itself a sun to light such worlds as ours;
  And round about Him clouds of living light,
  Bright clouds of cherubim and seraphim,
  Who sing His praise and execute His will—­
  Not idly singing, as the foolish feign,
  But voicing forth their joy they work and sing;
  Doing His will, their works sound forth His praise.

  On every side were fields of living green,
  With gardens, groves and gently rising hills,
  Where crystal streams of living waters flow,
  And dim with distance Meru’s lofty heights. 
  No desert sands, no mountains crowned with ice,
  For here the scorching simoom never blows,
  Nor wintry winds, that pierce and freeze and kill,
  But gentle breezes breathing sweet perfumes;
  No weeds, no thorns, no bitter poisonous fruits,
  No noxious reptiles and no prowling beasts;
  For in this world of innocence and love
  No evil thoughts give birth to evil things,
  But many birds of every varied plume
  Delight the ear with sweetest melody;
  And many flowers of every varied tint
  Fill all the air with odors rich and sweet;
  And many fruits, suited to every taste,
  Hang ripe and ready that who will may eat—­
  A world of life, with all its lights and shades,
  The bright original of our sad world
  Without its sin and storms, its thorns and tears. 
  No Lethe’s sluggish waters lave its shores,
  Nor solemn shades, of poet’s fancy bred,
  Sit idly here to boast of battles past,
  Nor wailing ghosts wring here their shadowy hands
  For lack of honor to their cast-off dust;
  But living men, in human bodies clothed—­