him,

To avoid the ways he haunted;
And they trembled sadly, sorely,
If he ever ventured near them.
Yet beneath his hardened manner
Dwelt a gentle spirit calmly;
It was only to the wicked,
To the evil and the sinful,
That his terror was revealéd.
Sero from the hands of Weemus
Took the people rudely, boldly,
As directed by the spirit
Which for ever ruled his actions.
Old, and young, and middle-aged,
Heedless of their years he took them,
Heedless of their power or greatness,
Heedless of their worth or beauty,
Or of want or low attainments;
Pious-minded, vain, and sinful,
Fell alike to be removéd.
There were some who longed his coming
To relieve them of their burden,
And admit them to the bright realms
Which he watched, and kept, and guarded,
There to rest in peace and tranquil,
Sheltered from the wars and tumults,
From the storms, and fears, and terrors

Which were ever raging freely
Throughout all the lands of Weemus.
They had seen in feeble vision—
Seen a ray of future glory,
Of the sweet and happy pleasures
In this kingdom Sero guarded;
Longed and panted for admission,
Toiled and labored for a passport,
Fought and battled for a title
To this realm where trouble is not,
Till they had become the victors,
And were waiting now to enter.
     Throughout all Nimæra’s kingdom
Warning heralds Sero sent out
To implore the heedless people,
Raising thus their warning voices:
“Turn, ye people, turn from evil,
Know ye that the day is nearing
For the long and weary journey
Through dark valleys and wild passes
To the lands of the hereafter.
Be ye ready for departure,
Robed and girded for the journey;
For our guide, the princely Sero,
Cometh; he is soon before you.
If you are not waiting ready,

He will not delay the journey,
But will in the darkness leave you,
Which ye cannot wander out of,
From its terrors or its dangers,
Till it take you to destruction,
To an everlasting torment.”
Thus the warning heralds wandered,
Oft complaining, oft imploring
Unto all the erring people,
Unto all the slothful numbers;
But they were so bound in pleasures,
Were in sin and lust so tangled,
That they heeded not the warning—
The kind words of warning spoken;
Which were lost and vainly wasted,
Were as mists upon a bulwark,
Bearing with them no impression,
Save unto a sorry number—
But a few who heard and listened,
And returned from evil doing
Unto ways of truth and knowledge.
     And of Sero let me tell you.
He was keeper of the passes
Leading to the land of Wisdom—
Wisdom, clothed in radiant glory;
And unto the lands of Darkness—

Darkness, clothed in every horror.
With bewailing he was girded,
To that band a key suspended;
He was girded with rejoicing,
To that band a key suspended.
These were keys wherewith he opened,
Opened he therewith the wickets,
To allow the people entrance
As the passport they presented.
Just between the wickets sat he,
Wide his dusky pinions spreading,
One upon each entrance holding;
And above him waved a banner,
In its colors dull and dismal;
Deep and solemn was the motto,
Was the warning written on it;
Thus it was in bold description—
“Woe is for the evildoer;
For the upright, joy and gladness.”
And a voice beside him echoed,
In sonorous sounds and loudly,
Tones of gladness, tones of sadness,
“Hark ye, hark ye, all who wander,
Woe is for the evildoer;
For the upright, joy and gladness.”
In his right hand Sero wielded,—

Brandished a terrific weapon,
And it was a sword of terror;
For the evil, but beholding,
Trembled as an aspen leaflet,
Shuddered as the ruined shudder.
Wonder movéd all the people
While they listened to the sayings,
To the wonders he unfolded
Of the regions which he guarded.
Thus he made his mystic sayings:
“Through this wicket on my right hand
Is a vale of noble grandeur,
Placid and surpassing lovely,
Which the pilgrim, as he enters,
Hails with overflowing gladness.
Seraphs from the holy regions—
Oh, so sweet, and so inviting!—
Meet him as he enters therein;
Through the pleasant passes guide him,
By the banks of streamlets gliding,
With a constant music laden;
Mellow light-beams on them dancing,
Waltzing to the streamlet’s music;
Music soft and so melodious
Rising from the groves around them;
Groves of myrtle and of woodbine

Full of odors rich and soothing,
Rising from the flowery vials;
Flowers which clothe the banks, adorning,
Till the breezes hail their essence;
Zephyrs soft, and fair, and gentle,
Take these balmy odors with them,
Throughout all the holy regions.
Thus he wanders onward, onward,
With his angel guides advancing,
Wrapt in wonder and adorement,
Raptured with the matchless beauty,
Till a softer music cometh,
Sweeter than the notes around him,
On the distance flowing sweetly.
Soon the strains come nearer, clearer,
And he wonders why the music.
‘Whence these songs of mirth and gladness?’
Asketh thus his angel escort.
‘Where and whence these sounds melodious?
Whose are all these festive voices?
What the cause of such rejoicing?’
And the spirits answer thuswise:
‘These are bands of angels singing
In the happy land of Blessing,
In the lofty halls of gladness.
Seraphs from their golden harps draw

Notes to swell the songs of gladness.
These are songs of glad rejoicings
For another pilgrim nearing,—
One escaped the land of bondage.
This the source of these rejoicings.’
Ere this answer hath been spoken,
Lo! before them rise the portals
Of the holy land of Blessing.
This the city he hath heard of
In such sweet and wondrous stories,
Whence he longed in patient waiting
To arrive at, now before him.
How enraptured he beholdeth
All its dazzling brightness spreading,
As he nearer comes and nearer
To the haven of his journey,
Thousand times ten thousands grander
Than his brightest fancies thought of.
Sparkling, bounding in its brightness,
Comes the soft and cheering fair light,
Rolling o’er the diamond bulwarks,
Flowing through the golden portals,
Like ten thousand fairy sunbeams.
All the bulwarks are of diamond,
And of purest gold the portals;
Paved of brightest gems the courts are;

Blended in a noble grandeur,
Sapphire blocks and blocks of ruby,
Emerald bars and bars of opal,
Rows of amethyst and topaz,
Sparkling in their golden framework.
Lofty are the walls and mighty,
Rising unto heights unmeasured,
Mighty, strong beyond conception.
Round the outer palisading
Of the diamond walls are watching
Many hosts from the Sabaoth
Of the King of all these bright