Our dear inheritance in God’s good time.
Love’s service done, forth streamed from their place
His choristers and singing boys, attired
In white raiment, shining where they quired;
And after them we went with silent pace,
And towards the groves of pleasure turn’d our face,
Whence by green quietude of cloister’d stone,
And shadow’d courts that kept themselves alone,
And ’neath the carven boughs that interlace;
Until we came beneath the fairer roof