Classic Poem

'T WAS night, and by a fountain side
I stood and mused alone:
Strange objects rose upon my sight
That were to me unknown.

Mysterious forms fantastic moved,
With slow and measured tread,
Like shadows floating in the air,
Or spectres from the dead.

A goblet from that fountain filled,
How quickly did I drain!
For those who taste its cooling draught
May live the past again.

Then suddenly a meteor glare
Flashed from the midnight sky;
'Twas gone,—and on immensity
Was riveted mine eye.

Borne upward by a power unseen,
In air I seemed to glide;
Onward—still onward—was my course:
A spirit was my guide.

We passed on never tiring wings
Through boundless realms of space,
Till lost amid those clustering stars
That here we scarce can trace.

Vast suns, with burning satellites,
Burst on my wondering eyes:
Bewildered by their dazzling light,
I gazed in mute surprise.

“Tell me, celestial one,” I said,
“If thou mayest be addressed,
Are not the brilliant orbs I see
The dwellings of the blest?—

“Can we the utmost limits reach?—
The heights of space attain?”
“When ends eternity,” he cried,
“And Heaven shall cease to reign.”

He spoke, then pointed to a star,
That far beyond us lay;
And swifter than on lightning's wing
We thither bent our way.

In robes of passing loveliness
Was Nature there arrayed;
The air was fragrant with the breath
Of flowers that never fade.

“Spirit,” I asked, “can aught of grief
These regions fair molest?
My pinions gladly would I fold
In this bright land to rest.”

“Mortal,” he answered, “thou must pass
The portals of the dead;
For sacred are these verdant fields,
Where only spirits tread.”

He ceased; then waved me back to earth:
I saw, I heard no more.
I woke as from a pleasing dream;
The mystic spell was o'er.