"SON of Light,"—I murmured lowly—

"All my heart is known to thee—

Known unto thy vision holy—

All my longing and my yearning for the Loved One lost to me—

May these eyes again behold her?"—and the Shape said, "Come and see."

'Twas a voice whose intonation

Through my feeble being thrilled

With a solemn, sweet vibration,

And at once a holy calmness all my wakeful senses stilled,

And my heart beat faint and fainter, with a dying languor filled.

Then a sudden sharp convulsion

Seized me with resistless might,

Till before that fierce compulsion

All mortality departed; like a Thought, a thing of Light,

All my spirit darted up to an immeasurable height.

I beheld bright visions darting

Past, in long and quick review,

Quick arriving, quick departing;

Mortal sense had grown immortal, and I saw not, but I knew,

And that spiritual sense was Knowledge, Absolute and True.

And there came amazement o'er me

In that infinite career,

For the scenes that rushed before me,

For the spell of earth had bound me,

And each quickly gliding scene

Brought the shapes of earth around me;—

Vales of bright unclouded verdure; hills arrayed in living green;

Limpid lakes in dim recesses overarched by skies serene;

Cooling rill and sparkling fountain,

Purple peak and headland bold,

Precipice and snow-clad mountain—

Lofty summits rising grandly into regions clear and cold,

And innumerable rivers that majestically rolled.

By such wondrous scenes surrounded,

O'er them all mine eyes I ran,

All bewildered and confounded;

Yet I sought amid that wonder all its mystery to scan,

Till amid the forms of Nature I beheld the face of Man.

I beheld fair cities gleaming

White on many a distant shore,

And the battle banners streaming,

And the pomp of mighty armies in the panoply of War,

And the navies of the nations speeding all the Ocean o'er.

But the human form and faces

Older still and older grew;

Races followed fast on races,

Vanished peoples seemed to rise again and robe themselves anew,

And the life and acts of all the ages passed in swift review.

Olden populations swarming

In an outward rushing tide,

Scattering o'er the earth and forming

Lines of march o'er lofty mountains, over deserts wild and wide,

Seeking evermore a country where they might in peace abide.

Then there came unpeopled spaces

Which no human token bore,

And the pathway of the races

Lessened slowly and diminished on the plain and on the shore,

Till at last amid the Vision came the form of Man no more.

And bereaved of man and lonely

Nature showed her aspect fair,

And the brute creation only

Peopled all her wilds and woodlands—lurked the tiger in his lair,

Coiled the serpent, sprang the lion, sped the bird athwart the air.

Myriad scenes in swift succession

Still with earnest gaze I viewed;

But in rapid retrogression

Nature faded;—forms of beauty followed fast by figures rude,

Ending in the dismal prospect of a world-wide solitude.

But my soul the vast procession

Of those countless vistas bore

With a marvellous impression,

Like the picture on the tablet by the sunbeam painted o'er

Instantaneous; all-embracing; with a power unknown before.

Then my Heavenly Guide addressing—

For a wondrous power had birth

In my nature, all expressing—

"What are these, and where belong they?"—and my Guide responded—"Earth—

For thy spirit turns spontaneous to its own domestic hearth."

"Where am I, O Radiant Spirit?

Where amid the realms of space?

Distant from the Earth, or near it?"—

"Where the rays projected from it at the birth-time of thy race

Have not yet attained;—a distance more than mortal thought may trace."

"Whence these shapes of things terrestrial?"—

"Shadows from the Earth that fall,

Gliding into space celestial"—

"Does the Earth thus tell her story;—thus are all things imaged?"—"All—

Forms and actions all are imaged; naught is hidden, great or small."

—"They at last are dissipated,"—

I exclaimed in sorrow sore,

—"At the brink of things created?"—

—"Things created know no limit; infinite space they traverse o'er;

Still the starry vistas open and recede for evermore."—

Then a mighty woe came o'er me,

Deep despair arose within,

And a thought stood black before me—

Shall Infinity forever write the records of my sin?

Is it thus that space shall treasure proofs of all that I have been?