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Open, ye gates, instinct with vital force,
That earth with heaven may hold high intercourse!
Open, ye portals of eternal day!
Through worlds of light prepare the glorious way!
Come, sons of bliss, in bright'ning clouds reveal'd,
Myriads of angels throng th' aërial field!
Come, sainted hosts! and from thy happier home,
Thou, Washington! our better angel! come.
And, lo! what vision bursts upon my sight,
Rob'd in th' unclouded majesty of light?
'Tis he—and hark! I hear, or seem to hear,
A more than mortal voice invade my ear;

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“To me,” the vision cries, “to speak is giv'n,
Mortals! attend the warning voice of heav'n:
Your likeness love! adore the pow'r divine!
So shall your days be blest, your end like mine!
So will Omnipotence your freedom guard,
And bliss unbounded be your great reward!”