But where the angels chant and sing,
And where the amaranth-blossoms spring,
Magdalena,
There's room for you, who have no room
Where lower angels chant your doom,
Magdalena!
There's room for you! The gate's ajar!
The white hands beckon from afar,
Magdalena!
And nearer yet! they stoop! they wait!
They open wide the jasper gate,
Magdalena!
And nearer yet! the hands stretch out!
A thousand silver trumpets shout,
Magdalena!
They lift you up through floods of light!
I see your garments growing white,
Magdalena!
And whiter still, too white to touch
The robes of us, who blamed you much,
Magdalena!
They lift you up through floods of light!
The streaming splendor blinds my sight,
Magdalena!
I feel the whirl of countless wings!
I lose the sense of earthly things,
Magdalena!
The starry splendors burn anew!
The starry splendors light me through,
Magdalena!