RICHARD CRASHAW

And hold them fast for ever there.

So soon as thou shalt first appear,

The moon of maiden stars, thy white

Mistress, attended by such bright

Souls as thy shining self, shall come,

And in her first ranks make thee room ;

Where, 'mongst her snowy family,

Immortal welcomes wait for thee.

O what delight, when she shall stand

And teach thy lips heaven, with her hand,

On which thou now may'st to thy wishes

Heap up thy consecrated kisses !

What joy shall seize thy soul, when she,

Bending her blessed eyes on thee,

Those second smiles of heaven, shall dart

Her mild rays through thy melting heart !

Angels, thy old friends, there shall greet thee.

Glad at their own home now to meet thee.

All thy good works which went before,

And waited for thee at the door,

Shall own thee there ; and all in one

Weave a constellation

Of crowns, with which the King, thy spouse,

Shall build up thy triumphant brows.

All thy old woes shall now smile on thee,

And thy pains sit bright upon thee :

All thy sorrows here shall shine,

And thy sufferings be divine.

Tears shall take comfort, and turn gems,

And wrongs repent to diadems.

Even thy deaths shall live, and new

Dress the soul which late they slew.

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