LUCIFER.
When I went out of Paradise,
I turned a backward glance to see
Two flaming swords: once, twice, and thrice,
I turned and turned, ere I could flee.
Then down the darkened path I sped,
And heard heaven's gate behind me close:
What matter then if, quick or dead.
The world of men before me rose?
What matter now indeed, to-day,
These lower honors, lower gains!
Above me shines that higher way,—
I might have walked the heavenly plains!
