- end_line
- 12425
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T20:48:09.931Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 12349
- text
- its vans like East and West; a sunrise one, sunset the other. As
silver-fish in vases, so, in his azure eyes swam tears unshed.
“Quick my guide close nested me; through its veins the waning light
throbbed hard.
“‘Oh, spirit! archangel! god! whate’er thou art,’ it breathed; ‘leave
me: I am but blessed, not glorified.’
“So saying, as down from doves, from its wings dropped sounds. Still
nesting me, it crouched its plumes.
“Then, in a snow of softest syllables, thus breathed the greater and
more beautiful:—‘From far away, in fields beyond thy ken, I heard thy
fond discourse with this lone Mardian. It pleased me well; for thy
humility was manifeat; no arrogance of knowing. Come _thou_ and learn
new things.’
“And straight it overarched us with its plumes; which, then, down-
sweeping, bore us up to regions where my first guide had sunk, but for
the power that buoyed us, trembling, both.
“My eyes did wane, like moons eclipsed in overwhelming dawns: such
radiance was around; such vermeil light, born of no sun, but pervading
all the scene. Transparent, fleck-less, calm, all glowed one flame.
“Then said the greater guide This is the night of all ye here behold—
its day ye could not bide. Your utmost heaven is far below.’
“Abashed, smote down, I, quaking, upward gazed; where, to and fro, the
spirits sailed, like broad-winged crimson-dyed flamingos, spiraling in
sunset-clouds. But a sadness glorified, deep-fringed their mystic
temples, crowned with weeping halos, bird-like, floating o’er them,
whereso’er they roamed.
“Sights and odors blended. As when new-morning winds, in summer’s
prime, blow down from hanging gardens, wafting sweets that never pall;
so, from those flowery pinions, at every motion, came a flood of
fragrance.
“And now the spirits twain discoursed of things, whose very terms, to
me, were dark. But my first guide grew wise. For me, I could but
blankly list; yet comprehended naught; and, like the fish that’s mocked
with wings, and vainly seeks to fly;—again I sought my lower element.
“As poised, we hung in this rapt ether, a sudden trembling seized the
four wings now folding me. And afar of, in zones still upward reaching,
suns’ orbits off, I, tranced, beheld an awful glory. Sphere in sphere,
it burned:—the one Shekinah! The air was flaked with fire;—deep in
which, fell showers of silvery globes, tears magnified —braiding the
flame with rainbows. I heard a sound; but not for me, nor my first
guide, was that unutterable utterance. Then, my second guide was swept
aloft, as rises a cloud of red-dyed leaves in autumn whirlwinds.
“Fast clasping me, the other drooped, and, instant, sank, as in a
vacuum; myriad suns’ diameters in a breath;—my five senses merged in
one, of falling; till we gained the nether sky, descending still.
“Then strange things—soft, sad, and faint, I saw or heard; as, when, in
sunny, summer seas, down, down, you dive, starting at pensive phantoms,
that you can not fix.
“‘These,’ breathed my guide, ‘are spirits in their essences; sad, even
in undevelopment. With these, all space is peopled;—all the air is
vital with intelligence, which seeks embodiment. This it is, that
unbeknown to Mardians, causes them to strangely start in solitudes of
night, and in the fixed flood of their enchanted noons. From hence, are
formed your mortal souls; and all those sad and shadowy dreams, and
boundless thoughts man hath, are vague remembrances of the time when
the soul’s sad germ, wide wandered through these realms. And hence it
is, that when ye Mardians feel most sad, then ye feel most immortal.
“Like a spark new-struck from flint, soon Mardi showed afar. It glowed
within a sphere, which seemed, in space, a bubble, rising from vast
depths to the sea’s surface. Piercing it, my Mardian strength returned;
but the angel’s veins once more grew dim.
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