And these decaying bodies mouldering are so cold and low,
And the loathsome grave-worm feeding on the still and pulseless heart,
Where may be the immortal spirit, what may be its deathless part?
Deep and far within the ether stretched my eyes their anxious gaze,
While the swelling thoughts within me grew a wild and wildered maze,
Then came floating on the distance, softly to my listening ears,
Low, thrilling harmonies of worlds whirling in their bright spheres.
From the sparkling orb of Venus, sweetest star that gems the blue,
Soon a form of seraph beauty burst upon my raptured view;
Wavy robes were floating round her, and her richly-clustering hair