Thomas Wade (1805–1875)

THERE is a mighty dawning on the earth

Of human glory; dreams unknown before

Fill the mind’s boundless world, and wondrous birth

Is given to great thought; and deep-drawn lore,

But late a hidden fount, at which a few

Quaffed and were glad, is now a flowing river,

Which the parched nations may approach and view,

Kneel down and drink, or float on it forever;

The bonds of spirit are asunder broken,

And matter makes a very sport of distance;

On every side appears a silent token

Of what will be hereafter, when existence

Shall even become a pure and equal thing,

And earth sweep high as heaven, on solemn wing.