"The way," he said, "is very long. Of what use but to mislead in that
course is my bodily sight, which bids me doubt the reality of all the
higher truths which my inner consciousness affirms?"

The stars were coming out, and looking upward he remembered his
childhood's hope that beyond their radiant ranks was the Home of
Spirits, and thus he prayed:

"Father of Lights, these lesser beacons hide,
My way is long, this desert plain is wide,
Darken mine eyes so I behold my guide.

The way is long, it leads among the stars.
How should I roam that shimmering vault of night?
How halt where yon bright orb his lamp uprears
In glistering chains of light,
To list 'mid ringing spheres for that strange psalm?
The sum of agony were surely this--
To hear the Blessed Wind 'mid waving palm;
The pearly gates to miss
Whose glorious light is not of moon nor sun;
To list the river's flow, and stand undone.

Light of the Realms of bliss, be Thou mine eye;
So shall my homeless soul, when death is nigh,
With joy a mansion in the heavens descry."