The Pure Realm

There is a vast domain, Grounded on a golden land; There the immortals remain, And those who in holiness stand. Once I reminisce on the pure realm Beyond the shadows peep Where beings in white apparel swiftly touch My sovereign bids me to natter Of how mortal there must occupy In eternal bliss Where the mighty one is eternally pleased Not a taste of this ground is felt Nor the chattels of this home can compare The lanes are of choice treasure The trees fairer than cedars of Lebanon And of the river, as crystal, not like Jordan Yet unmixed, while that of Euphrates is less Every flower is arrayed gorgeously And they sing melodies, not upon ten strings But upon angelic inspiration, of harps Made without hands Time has no power there, nor can cause— Oldness or baldness There are no unequal roads of life For goodness remains a seal, The vast domain speaks plenitude For the plenum from all race The sun and the moon are not at their posts And upon the brightness, its source is not from them At instances when I feel the heat Of this accommodating hut Then I reminisce on the pure realm.