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SONNET III.
The gorgeous ranks of flaming cherubim,—The light, the rushing of unnumber'd wings,—
The choral voices of the host that sings
Unceasing anthems at the Throne of Him,
Th' Eternal, the Unknown,—to me are dim
And unattractive dreams;—my weak soul clings
To joys and hopes that flow from earthly things,
E'en when the inward eye of faith doth swim
In dreams that wander through eternity.
I cannot long for unimagined joys;
My trust is that hereafter I shall see
Forms dear to me on Earth—that many a voice
Well known in Paradise shall speak to me,
And earthly love be free from Earth's alloys.
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