And, as he looked, a chariot of gold Was passing o’er the pavement pearly-laid; A gleam of heavenly light he could behold Whose radiance warmed his soul and with him stayed.
“Who passes?” cried he; “Tell his honored name, And whither will the golden chariot go?” “To all the world,” the answer sweetly came;— “’Tis Christ, the King of Heaven and earth below.”
Then, in the brightness of that blessed light, He followed on, with never-tiring speed; The chariot wheels he ever kept in sight,— For strength was given, in the hour of need.
The chariot stopped, beside a crystal stream, And Christ, descending, loosed the reins of gold; Then, gazing downward past the heavenly gleam, “Here lies the earth,” said he; “Come and behold!”
The follower came, as comes the wandering dove, When seeking shelter from the storms of night; And as he looked from that great height above, He saw below a strange and sickening sight;—
The earth was there, like some great marshy tract, With crowds, like blind men, wandering to and fro; Some struggling upward, others falling back, And crying out: “We know not where to go!”
He saw among them many of his own To whom he preached the word of God each year; There stood the little chapel, built of stone, Where once he grieved, because some would not hear.
The darkness came; he heard their piteous cry,— Weeping and moaning sounded thro’ the air, As, one by one, they lost “the way” near by And souls were yielding to a death’s despair.
He saw it all as never seen before,— His eyes were opened, now he could not stay; Standing with Christ his spirit did implore:— “O send me back that I may point the way!”