Heaven
Thou bright mirage, that o’er man’s arduous way
Hast hung in the hot sky, with fountains streaming,
Cool marble domes, and palm-fronds waving, gleaming,—
Vision of rest and peace to end the day!
Now he is weariest, alone, astray,
Spent with long labor, led by thy sweet seeming,
Faint as the breath of Nature’s lightest dreaming,
Thou waverest and vanishest away!
Can Nature dream? Is God’s great sky deceiving?
Where joy like that the clouds above us show
Be sure the counterpart must lie below,
Sweeter than hope, more blessed than believing!
We lose the fair reflection of our home
Because so near its gates our feet have come!