William Blake

If the doors of perception were cleansed everything would appear to man as it is: Infinite.

To see a world in a grain of sand
And heaven in a wild flower
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand
And eternity in an hour.

Auguries of Innocence

"Bring me my Bow of burning gold:
Bring me my Arrows of desire:
Bring me my Spear: O clouds unfold!
Bring me my Chariot of Fire."

Jerusalem' in Milton, 1804-1808

PD: some day some time we´ll see the world as it is, through the blood of poet with the beating of hid heart in our eyes.

Let me the melancolic instant of his last breath