To wander and to stray, all carelessly neglect:
And in the stead of mirth and pleasure, nights and days
Nought else was to be heard, but woes, complaints and moan.
But thou, O blessèd soul! dost haply not respect
These tears we shed, though full of loving pure affect;
Having affixt thine eyes on that most glorious throne,
Where full of majesty, the high Creator reigns.
In whose bright shining face thy joys are all complete,
Whose love kindles thy sprite, where happy always one,
Thou liv'st in bliss that earthly passion never stains;