There be the prudent prophets all, The apostles six and six, The glorious martyrs in a row, And confessors betwixt. There doth the crew of righteous men And matrons all consist-- Young men and maids that here on earth Their pleasures did resist. The sheep and lambs, that hardly 'scaped The snare of death and hell, Triumph in joy eternally, Whereof no tongue can tell; And though the glory of each one Doth differ in degree, Yet is the joy of all alike And common, as we see. There love and charity do reign, And Christ is all in all, Whom they most perfectly behold In joy celestial. They love, they praise--they praise, they love; They "Holy, holy," cry; They neither toil, nor faint, nor end, But laud continually. Oh! happy thousand times were I, If, after wretched days, I might with listening ears conceive Those heavenly songs of praise, Which to the eternal king are sung By happy wights above-- By savèd souls and angels sweet, Who love the God of love. Oh! passing happy were my state, Might I be worthy found To wait upon my God and king, His praises there to sound; And to enjoy my Christ above, His favor and His grace, According to His promise made, Which here I interlace: "O Father dear," quoth He, "let them Which Thou hast put of old To me, be there where lo! I am-- Thy glory to behold; Which I with Thee, before the world Was made in perfect wise, Have had--from whence the fountain great Of glory doth arise." Again: "If any man will serve Thee, let him follow me; For where I am, he there, right sure, Then shall my servant be." And still: "If any man loves me, Him loves my Father dear, Whom I do love--to him myself In glory will appear." Lord, take away my misery, That then I may be bold With Thee, in Thy Jerusalem, Thy glory to behold; And so in Zion see my king, My love, my Lord, my all-- Where now as in a glass I see, There face to face I shall. Oh! blessèd are the pure in heart-- Their sovereign they shall see; O ye most happy, heavenly wights, Which of God's household be! O Lord, with speed dissolve my bands, These gins and fetters strong; For I have dwelt within the tents Of Kedar over long. Yet search me, Lord, and find me out! Fetch me Thy fold unto, That all Thy angels may rejoice, While all Thy will I do. O mother dear! Jerusalem! When shall I come to thee? When shall my sorrows have an end, Thy joys when shall I see? Yet once again I pray Thee, Lord, To quit me from all strife, That to Thy hill I may attain, And dwell there all my life-- With cherubim and seraphim And holy souls of men, To sing Thy praise, O God of hosts! Forever and amen! ANONYMOUS. * * * * * PARADISE.