234. Wherein He Seeks Consolation in the Thought of Her Heavenly Happiness -
WHEREIN HE SEEKS CONSOLATION IN THE THOUGHT OF HER HEAVENLY HAPPINESS
O eyes, sad eyes, our sun is overshrouded,
Or only veiled to us, and brightly burning
In Heaven's pure blue against our slow returning,
Lamenting the delay that keeps us clouded!
Ah there, mine ears, the air is sweetly crowded
With tones that speak to the heart's high discerning!
My feet, thou canst not pierce the swift white spurning
Of her celestial progress as once thou did!
Why, then, torment and tear me thus, for oh,
You cannot call me guilty that no more
You see, hear, feel, rejoice in her below:
Contend with Death — or rather Him implore
Who chains and unchains, holds back and lets go
And wipes the wound and opens the locked door.
O eyes, sad eyes, our sun is overshrouded,
Or only veiled to us, and brightly burning
In Heaven's pure blue against our slow returning,
Lamenting the delay that keeps us clouded!
Ah there, mine ears, the air is sweetly crowded
With tones that speak to the heart's high discerning!
My feet, thou canst not pierce the swift white spurning
Of her celestial progress as once thou did!
Why, then, torment and tear me thus, for oh,
You cannot call me guilty that no more
You see, hear, feel, rejoice in her below:
Contend with Death — or rather Him implore
Who chains and unchains, holds back and lets go
And wipes the wound and opens the locked door.
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