Sun-threads--filmy beams--ran through the celestial napery of what
seemed its princely cradle. All the winged orders hovered around,
watching when the new-born should open its yet closed eyes; which,
when it did, first one, and then the other--with a solicitude and
apprehension, yet not such as, stained with fear, dim the expanding
eye-lids of mortal infants, but as if to explore its path in those its
unhereditary palaces--what an inextinguishable titter that time spared
not celestial visages! Nor wanted there to my seeming--O the
inexplicable simpleness of dreams!--bowls of that cheering nectar,

--which mortals _caudle_ call below.

Nor were wanting faces of female ministrants,--stricken in years, as
it might seem,--so dexterous were those heavenly attendants to
counterfeit kindly similitudes of earth, to greet, with terrestrial
child-rites the young _present_, which earth had made to heaven.

Then were celestial harpings heard, not in full symphony as those by
which the spheres are tutored; but, as loudest instruments on earth
speak oftentimes, muffled so to accommodate their sound the better to
the weak ears of the imperfect-born. And, with the noise of those
subdued soundings, the Angelet sprang forth, fluttering its rudiments
of pinions--but forthwith flagged and was recovered into the arms of
those full-winged angels. And a wonder it was to see how, as years
went round in heaven--a year in dreams is as a day--continually its
white shoulders put forth buds of wings, but, wanting the perfect
angelic nutriment, anon was shorn of its aspiring, and fell
fluttering--still caught by angel hands--for ever to put forth shoots,
and to fall fluttering, because its birth was not of the unmixed
vigour of heaven.

And a name was given to the Babe Angel, and it was to be called
_Ge-Urania_, because its production was of earth and heaven.

And it could not taste of death, by reason of its adoption into
immortal palaces; but it was to know weakness, and reliance, and the
shadow of human imbecility; and it went with a lame gait; but in its
goings it exceeded all mortal children in grace and swiftness. Then
pity first sprang up in angelic bosoms; and yearnings (like the human)
touched them at the sight of the immortal lame one.

And with pain did then first those Intuitive Essences, with pain and
strife to their natures (not grief), put back their bright
intelligences, and reduce their ethereal minds, schooling them to