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