Came the rich mysteries to the sleeper’s eye,
That saw your hosts ascending and descending
On those bright steps between the earth and sky:
Trembling he woke, and bow’d o’er glory’s trace,
And worshipp’d awe-struck, in that fearful place.
By Chebar’s[321] brook ye pass’d, such radiance wearing
As mortal vision might but ill endure;
Along the stream the living chariot bearing,
With its high crystal arch, intensely pure;
And, the dread rushing of your wings that hour