Heaven has different signs to me;

Heaven has different signs to me;
Sometimes I think that noon
Is but a symbol of the place,
And when again at dawn

A mighty look runs round the world
And settles in the hills,
An awe if it should be like that
Upon the ignorance steals.

The orchard when the sun is on;
The triumph of the birds
When they together victory make;
Some carnivals of clouds—

The rapture of concluded day
Returning to the West,—
All these remind us of the place
That men call "Paradise."

Itself a fairer we suppose,
But how ourself shall be
Adorned for a superior grace,
Not yet our eyes can see.