Hardly a mile had his wild train fled

Into the desert straight ahead,

When a flare of light to his vision came

As if the world were engulfed in flame.

Perhaps it fell on his closing eyes

Like the great, white light of Paradise;

Perhaps, in the roar which smote him there,

Too deep for a mortal ear to bear,

He heard but the Heavenly trumpet-roll

Blown clear to welcome a hero's soul.