I Long For Diviner Regions, - The Spirit Would Reach Its Goal; Though, This World Hath Surpassing Beauty, It Warreth Against The Soul. There'S A Cloud In The Eastern Heaven; Beyond It, A Cold Gray Sky; But I Know That The Sun'S Rare Radiance Will Brighten It By And By. In The Fane Of My Soul Is Glowing The Joy Of A Hope To Come, That Will Touch With Its Memnon Finger The Lips That Are Cold And Dumb: Till Illumed By The Smile Of Heaven, And Blest With A Purer Life, Will The Gloom That O'Ershades My Spirit Depart Like A Vanquished Strife.