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XXXIII. THE BEATIFIC VISION OF THE EARTH.—2.
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XXXIII. THE BEATIFIC VISION OF THE EARTH.—2.

Hail Earth, for man's sake cursed, yet blessing man!
The Saviour trod thine herbage, breathed thine air:
Henceforward, not alone through symbols, fair,
Thou showest, delivered from thine ancient ban,
Memorial bloom withheld since death began:
Thy Maker's glory formed at last to share
Even now that light transfiguring thou dost wear
For us, which once adorned His forehead wan.
‘All things are new.’ O sing it, heavenly choirs!
And ye, the choir of God's great Church below,
The Poets! sound it on your deep-toned lyres:
From every mountain-top the tidings blow:
‘All things are new.’ The Earth hath thrown aside
Her mourning weeds, and sits a pale, and veilèd bride.