I do not know, if, climbing some steep hill

Through fragrant wooded pass, this glimpse I bought;

Or whether in some mid-day I was caught

To upper air, where visions of God’s will

In pictures to our quickened sense fulfil

His word. But this I saw:

Through wall of rock. No human fingers wrought

The golden gates which opened, suddenly, still,

And wide. My fear was hushed by my delight.

Surpassing fair the lands; my path lay plain;

Alas! So spell-bound, feasting on the sight,

I paused, that I but reached the threshold bright,

When, swinging swift, the golden gates again

Were rocky walls, by which I wept in vain!