Lloyd Mifflin - The Flight lyrics

Upon a cloud among the stars we stood: The angel raised his hand, and looked, and said, "Which world of all yon starry myriad Shall we make wing to?" The still solitude Became a harp whereon his voice and mood Made spheral music round his haloed head. I spoke--for then I had not long been dead-- "Let me look round upon the wastes, and brood A moment on these orbs ere I decide. . . What is yon lower star that beauteous shines, And with soft splendor now incarnadines Our wings?--There would I go, and there abide." Then he, as one who some child's thought divines: "That is that world where yesternight you died."