Perchance thou, With thy cloudless vision, slowly sweeping The mighty Nave that cleaves the Galaxy — God's visible Tabernacle in the skies, Star-edifice, from its shining crypt to dome, Past the pomp of pillared worlds, and columns wrought Of fair tracery of amethyst and pearl, Through hyacinth portals draped in stellar mists, And the fiery fringe of suns — thou shalt come at last Unto the very choir of the Universe; And thus, through veiled and distant glories, thou shalt behold The Star-Choir that sang so loud and sweet On the first morn, when creation sprang In its dewy beauty from Jehovah's hand. Perchance thou, with inconceivable swiftness, Wilt overtake the light and see the things Which have been, and which shall never be again, Following the dying star in its swift flight Through Eternity; tracking the lost world, Which, drifting beyond our sight, still shines with beauty On the borders of some far-off realm; Perchance the Star that first heralded peace to men Shall rise, through thee, upon the waiting earth; And O visionary Eye, perchance thou mayest Reveal the City of Beauty that lieth Foursquare in the midst of heaven, whose shining walls Are built of pure jasper and fine gold; Whose ramparts are of crystal and whose ways Are paved with sapphire, and whose gates are of pearl."
