A spirit came upon me in the night
And led me gently down a rocky stair
Unto a peopled garden, green and fair,
Where all the day there was an evening light.
Trees out of every nation blended there.
The citron shrub its golden fruit did train
Against an English elm: it was like a dream
Because there was no wind; and things did seem
All near and big, like mountains before rain,
Far in those twilight bowers beside a stream
The soul of one who had but lately died
Hung listening, with a brother at his side;
And no one spoke in all that haunted place
But looked quietly into each other's face.