Stormy winter, burning summer, rage within those regions never;
But perpetual bloom of roses, and unfading spring for ever:
Lilies gleam, the crocus glows, and dropping balms their scents deliver;
Honey pure, and greenest pastures,—this the land of promise is
Liquid odours soft distilling, perfumes breathing on the breeze;
Fruits immortal cluster always on the leafy, fadeless trees.
There no moon shines chill and changing, there no stars with twinkling ray—
For the Lamb of that blest city is at once the sun and day;
Night and time are known no longer,—day shall never fade away.
There the saints, like suns, are radiant,—like the sun at dawn they glow;
Crownèd victors after conflict, all their joys together flow;
And, secure, they count the battles where they fought the prostrate foe.
Every stain of flesh is cleansèd, every strife is left behind;
Spiritual are their bodies,—perfect unity of mind;
Dwelling in deep peace for ever, no offense or grief they find.
Putting off their mortal vesture, in their Source their souls they steep,—
Truth by actual vision learning, on its form their gaze they keep,—
Drinking from the living Fountain draughts of living waters deep.
Time, with all its alternations, enters not those hosts among,—
Glorious, wakeful, blest, no shade of chance or change o'er them is flung;
Sickness cannot touch the deathless, nor old age the ever young.
There their being is eternal,—things that cease have ceased to be.
All corruption there has perished,—there they flourish strong and free;
Thus mortality is swallowed up of life eternally.
Nought from them is hidden,—knowing Him to whom all things are known
All the spirit's deep recesses, sinless, to each other shown,—
Unity of will and purpose, heart and mind for ever one.
Diverse as their varied labours the rewards to each that fall;
But Love, what she loves in others evermore her own doth call:
Thus the several joy of each becomes the common joy of all.