Yes, Heaven is thine; but this Is a world of sweets and sours; Our flowers are merely—flowers, And the shadow of thy perfect bliss Is the sunshine of ours.

Yes, Heaven is thine; but this Is a world of sweets and sours; Our flowers are merely—flowers, And the shadow of thy perfect bliss Is the sunshine of ours. If I could dwell Where Israfel Hath dwelt, and he where I, He might not sing so wildly well A mortal melody, While a bolder note than this might swell From my lyre within the sky. [https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/The_Works_of_the_Late_Edgar_Allan_Poe/Volume_2/Israfel https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/The_Works_of_the_Late_Edgar_A...]