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On some rich eve—no thing of dread
To all his spirit did it seem,
To dream on, feeling sweet earth spread
Over his head.
But, one long twilight—hushed and dim—
The blue unfathomable clime
Of heaven seemed wholly to o'erbrim
With presence of the Lord—sublime;
And voices of the Seraphim
Fell through the ether like a chime:
He rose: his past way seemed to him
Like a child's whim.
