Their sight drinks lovely fires in at their eyes, Their brain sweet incense with fine breath accloys, That on God's sweating altar burning lies; Their hungry ears feed on the heavenly noise That angels sing, to tell their untold joys; Their understanding naked truth, their wills The all, and self-sufficient goodness fills, That nothing here is wanting, but the want of ills. VI. No sorrow now hangs clouding on their brow, No bloodless malady empales their face, No age drops on their hairs his silver snow, No nakedness their bodies doth embase, No poverty themselves, and theirs disgrace, No fear of death the joy of life devours, No unchaste sleep their precious time deflowers, No loss, no grief, no change wait on their winged hours. VII. But now their naked bodies scorn the cold, And from their eyes joy looks, and laughs at pain; The infant wonders how he came so old, And old man how he came so young again; Still resting, though from sleep they still restrain; Where all are rich, and yet no gold they owe; And all are kings, and yet no subjects know; All full, and yet no time on food they do bestow. VIII. For things that pass are past, and in this field The indeficient spring no winter fears; The trees together fruit and blossom yield, The unfading lily leaves of silver bears, And crimson rose a scarlet garment wears: And all of these on the saints' bodies grow, Not, as they wont, on baser earth below; Three rivers here of milk, and wine, and honey flow. IX. About the holy city rolls a flood Of molten crystal, like a sea of glass, On which weak stream a strong foundation stood, Of living diamonds the building was That all things else, besides itself, did pass: Her streets, instead of stones, the stars did pave, And little pearls, for dust, it seemed to have, On which soft-streaming manna, like pure snow, did wave. X. In midst of this city celestial, Where the eternal temple should have rose, Lightened the idea beatifical: End and beginning of each thing that grows, Whose self no end, nor yet beginning knows, That hath no eyes to see, nor ears to hear; Yet sees, and hears, and is all eye, all ear; That nowhere is contained, and yet is everywhere. XI. Changer of all things, yet immutable; Before, and after all, the first, and last: That moving all is yet immoveable; Great without quantity, in whose forecast, Things past are present, things to come are past; Swift without motion, to whose open eye The hearts of wicked men unbreasted lie; At once absent, and present to them, far, and nigh. XII. It is no flaming lustre, made of light; No sweet consent, or well-timed harmony; Ambrosia, for to feast the appetite: Or flowery odour, mixed with spicery; No soft embrace, or pleasure bodily: And yet it is a kind of inward feast; A harmony that sounds within the breast; An odour, light, embrace, in which the soul doth rest. XIII.