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Concerning perfect blessed ness which consists in a vision of God.

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

Where there is no vision, the people perish: but he that keepeth the law, happy is he.

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

The people's prayer, the glad diviner's theme! The young men's vision, and the old men's dream.

So little distant dangers seem: So we mistake the future's face, Ey'd thro' Hope's deluding glass; As yon summits soft and fair, Clad in colours of the air, Which to those who journey near, Barren, brown, and rough appear.

Visions of glory, spare my aching sight! Ye unborn ages, crown not on my soul.

I wonder if ever a song was sung but the singer's heart sang sweeter! I wonder if ever a rhyme was rung but the thought surpassed the meter! I wonder if ever a sculptor wrought till the cold stone echoed his ardent thought! Or, if ever a painter with light and shade the dream of his inmost heart portrayed!

Abou Ben Adhem Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace, And say, within the moonlight in his room, Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom, An angel, writing in a book of gold; Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold, And to the presence in the room he said-- "What writest thou?" The Vision raised its head, And, with a look made all of sweet accord, Answered, "The names of those who love the Lord."

It is a dream, sweet child! a waking dream, A blissful certainty, a vision bright, Of that rare happiness, which even on earth Heaven gives to those it loves.

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.

Gorgons, and Hydras, and Chimaeras dire.

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

My thoughts by night are often filled With visions false as fair: For in the past alone, I build My castles in the air.

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.

Our revels are now ended. These our actors As I foretold you, were all spirits and Are melted into air, into thin air; And, like the baseless fabric of this vision, The cloud-capped tow'rs, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temples, the great globe itself, Yea, all of which it inherit, shall dissolve, And, like this insubstantial pageant faded, Is rounded with a sleep.

Hence, dear delusion, sweet enchantment hence! - Horace Smith and James Smith,

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!