Where Art, in its essential excellence,
Glowed in potential forms, where Nature, too,
Un-ultimated in terrestrial things,
Bloomed in angelic beauty. To the east
A river, brinked luxuriantly with flowers,
Lapsed silently. The deep-enameled dome,
Whose measureless horizon knew no bounds,
Was draped with clouds that broke celestial rays,
Shining down shadowless. Turning, I saw
A pair of Consorts, whose exalted home