Within the Gates by Elizabeth Stuart Phelps Ward

_Paradise_: A beautiful country. Trees, flowers, shrubs, vines of great luxuriance abound. Brilliant birds of unfamiliar plumage can be heard singing in the boughs. They dip, blazing, through the air. The grass is bright, and like short fur in effect. The sheen of water, like the surface of a lake or sea, glimmers beyond. Sails of faint, fair tints, move and melt upon the sea. At a distance, upon a hill, are outlines of graceful architecture. A narrow brook can be seen, with strange shells upon its little banks.

There are no highways visible. Foot-worn walks and paths, trodden through the grass, intersperse the landscape. The grass, however, springs afresh beneath the foot, and is not crushed or sear. Annunciation lilies and scarlet passion-flowers grow in the foreground. Bluebells, in clusters, spring beyond. Roses are many. Flowers unknown to the botanies of earth are frequent; and among those to which we are used, it will be noticed that the blossoms of the tropics and of the North countries flourish side by side. The whole impression is one of delight and beauty. The sky has a misty softness, and the atmosphere is capable of taking on (and takes on) sudden and subtle changes of effect. It is now seen to be early morning, and all the tints of the landscape are tender and fresh.