第61部分(第5/7 頁)

h　a　steady　hand。　Along　the　foot　of　the　cliff　runs　a　great　river　that；　like　the　Nile；　floods　the　lands　at　certain　seasons；　and　makes　them　bear　a　hundredfold。　Winding　almost　at　right　angles　from　the　mountain　slope；　it　flows　across　the　boundless　plain；　past　a　white　and　wonderful　city　whose　domes　and　palaces　I　only　see　from　far　away；　for　here　my　guide　has　never　led　me。　There　on　its　banks　soar　gracious　palms；　there　willows　weep；　there　spread　aspens　with　leaves　just　about　to　quiver；　and　there；　through　the　sparse　woodlands；　roam　the　wild　things　of　the　New　Creation；　seeking　their　food　from　God　and　fearing　no　hurt　from　aught　that　serves　Him。　Facing　this　river；　to　the　right　as　I　see　it；　but　far　across　the　plain；　are　lovely　mountains　not　so　very　lofty；　where；　from　the　other　river　of　the　lake；　amidst　slender　ferns；　rush　waterfalls　that　descend　in　bursts　of　stirless　spray。

There；　too；　in　the　east　—　can　it　be　the　east；　I　wonder？　—　is　the　very　well　and　fount　of　light：　a　soft　but　radiant　light　that　casts　no　shadow；　since　it　grows　and　flows　above；　beneath；　around；　and　everywhere。　Its　shape　is　that　of　a　luminous　fan。　While　the　day　increases　—　how　long　that　day　is　I　do　not　know　—　so　does　the　glory　of　that　fan　extend　till　it　fills　all　those　celestial　skies：　till　it　bends　across　them　beyond　the　mighty　cliff　where　stand　the　golden　guards；　as　in　the　funeral　paintings　of　Old　Egypt　the　image　of　the　goddess　Nout　bends　across　the　heavens　and　holds　the　earth　in　her　embracing　arms。　Then；　as　at　length　the　night　draws　on；　this　wondrous　fan　folds　itself　again　to　a　cluster　of　jewelled　stars；　large　as　young　moons　and　of　every　lovely　hue；　varying　from　that　of　a　kind　of　shining　blackness　to　those　of　steel　blue；　and　scarlet；　and　red　fire；　that　girdle　the　firmament　with　a　glittering　belt　as　might　do