An angel stood and met my gaze, Through the low doorway of my tent; The tent is struck, the vision stays; I only know she came and went.

And like a passing thought, she fled In light away.

Behold, I see the heavens opened, and the Son of man standing on the right hand of God.

But shapes that come not at an earthly call, Will not depart when mortal voices bid.

Fond man! the vision of a moment made! Dream of a dream! and shadow of a shade!

Gorgons, and Hydras, and Chimaeras dire.

Hence the fool's paradise, the statesman's scheme, The air-built castle, and the golden dream, The maid's romantic wish, the chemist's flame, And poet's vision of eternal fame.

I have also spoken by the prophets, and I have multiplied visions, and used similitudes, by the ministry of the prophets.

If you will it, it is no dream.

O visions ill foreseen! Better had I Liv'd ignorant of future, so had borne My part of evil only.