God Almighty shall give joy for pain, Shall comfort him who grieves: Lo! He with joy shall doubtless come again, And with Him bring His sheaves. 40 PARADISE: IN A DREAM (_Lyra Messianica_, second edition, 1865.) Once in a dream I saw the flowers That bud and bloom in Paradise; More fair they are than waking eyes Have seen in all this world of ours. And faint the perfume-bearing rose, And faint the lily on its stem, And faint the perfect violet Compared with them. I heard the songs of Paradise: Each bird sat singing in his place; 10 A tender song so full of grace It soared like incense to the skies. Each bird sat singing to his mate Soft cooing notes among the trees: The nightingale herself were cold To such as these. I saw the fourfold River flow, And deep it was, with golden sand; It flowed between a mossy land With murmured music grave and low. 20 It hath refreshment for all thirst, For fainting spirits strength and rest: Earth holds not such a draught as this From east to west. The Tree of Life stood budding there, Abundant with its twelvefold fruits; Eternal sap sustains its roots, Its shadowing branches fill the air. Its leaves are healing for the world, Its fruit the hungry world can feed, 30 Sweeter than honey to the taste And balm indeed. I saw the gate called Beautiful; And looked, but scarce could look, within; I saw the golden streets begin, And outskirts of the glassy pool. Oh harps, oh crowns of plenteous stars, Oh green palm-branches many-leaved-- Eye hath not seen, nor ear hath heard, Nor heart conceived. 40 I hope to see these things again, But not as once in dreams by night; To see them with my very sight, And touch, and handle, and attain: To have all Heaven beneath my feet For narrow way that once they trod; To have my part with all the saints, And with my God. WITHIN THE VEIL (_Lyra Eucharistica_, second edition, 1865.) She holds a lily in her hand, Where long ranks of Angels stand, A silver lily for her wand. All her hair falls sweeping down; Her hair that is a golden brown, A crown beneath her golden crown. Blooms a rose-bush at her knee, Good to smell and good to see: It bears a rose for her, for me; Her rose a blossom richly grown, 10 My rose a bud not fully blown, But sure one day to be mine own. PARADISE: IN A SYMBOL (_Lyra Eucharistica_, second edition, 1865.) Golden-winged, silver-winged, Winged with flashing flame, Such a flight of birds I saw, Birds without a name: Singing songs in their own tongue (Song of songs) they came.