Seem’d gold, or like the burnish’d path which meets
The sun’s bright porch across the shining sea;
So in Love’s glory shone my way to me.
Until before her gate the splendour fell.
Robed in sweet grace and crowned with her hair,
I met my queen, upon her palace stair,
And near I was to fall and worship there,
As to her hand I brought a golden gift,
Which she, my gracious sovereign, counted well,
And me unto her highest grace did lift,