I rush with the swift spheres, and glow
In joy, and when I will, I sleep,—
Yet that severe, that earnest air,
I saw, I felt it once, but where?
I knew not yet the gauge of Time,
Nor wore the manacles of space,—
I felt it in some other clime,
I saw it in some other place.
’Twas when the heavenly house I trod,
And lay upon the breast of God.