And born in hearts that burn in joys of heaven—
Louder than twelvefold thunder, yet more sweet
Than all the sweetest strains e'er heard on earth,
Fill Heaven with light and song ineffable,
Along the bright flow of eternity.
Then swift in flight as saint and seraph there,
She passes back through those vast gates of fire,
And slowly drops upon some flowery peak,
Or ocean isle, upon this mundane sphere;
Then sleeps soft in the folds of some fair flower,