Heav'n's happy legions joined the cry,
Their voices melting into one.
The saint, up-gazing through the dew
Of pity brimming o'er his eyes,
Discerned in Heav'n's remotest blue
The Son of God lean from the skies.
Then through their agonies were heard
The tones which still'd the angry sea,
The voice of the Eternal Word:
"And do ye ask repose of me?