Fakeer of Jungheera 1.17
And bright my gifted vision sees
The book of destiny revealed,
With all its hallowed mysteries.
The years to come around me rise,
With sights unseen, and sounds unheard;
Before me all the future flies
As if 'twere some celestial bird,
And every waving of its wings
Still something uncreated flings;
And in the scroll of doom I see
The bliss that is reserved for me,
With all the good whose ebbless flow
Is only dreamt of here below.
Oh ! sure an angel might lay down
His robe of light, his starry crown,
And his exalted place resign
For all the bliss that must be mine;
The bliss all other bliss above—
Love ! Love ! immortal, boundless
Love! I see the wreath that sprites are wreathing,
And o'er it forms of light are breathing,
While bounteous gods the garland bless
To give it life and loveliness.
How beautiful!—each fragrant flower
Is culled from Indra's greenest bower—
And if above Immortals prize
Those blossoms with delighted eyes,
O ! what were even a petal worth
Of heaven's Cameeni sweet on earth!
Now, from the casket rich of night
They've brought small jewels made of light,
A few eternal stars to shine
Like diamonds with those flowers divine—
And this good angels weave for me,
The wreath of immortality!
And they have built an emerald bower
Where with my loved-one many an hour
We'll while away, like happy birds,
Rich music breathing in our words,
Soft odours stealing from our sighs,
And pleasure laughing in our eyes.
A sapphire rill is rippling by
That shines the azure of the sky;
And as its onward path it takes
Ever delicious music makes,
Like sweetest echo answering
A minstrel seraph's silver string.
Its golden margin is a bed
Where blushingly the lotus red
Her bosom opens to the bee,
As if it were invitingly;
And all her scented sighs are given
To float around perfuming heaven!
And there the winged breezes bring
Delicious hymns that planets sing;
Each breathing such a blessed tone
To ear of mortal all unknown.
Oh ! soon with purer feet I'll press
That hallowed land of happiness;
That court whose pavement is o'erlaid
With gems and flowers that cannot fade;
That temple where the footsteps bright
Fall on a floor of chrysolite,
Its diamonds roof the bound of space,
Itself the spirit's resting-place,
By foot with taint of earth untrod—
The glorious kingdom of our God!"