 | The Poetical Works of the Rev. George Croly |  |
195
V. THE HYMN.
“Open ye gates of peace, receive the bride,
In beauty come to pledge her virgin vow.
Oh! not with mortal thoughts those cheeks are dyed,
Those downcast eyes not touch'd with mortal woe;
The eyes of seraphim behold her now,
And, veiling their bright foreheads with the plume,
They lay before her feet their chaplets low.
Daughter of princes, heir of glory, come!
Open ye gates of peace. She triumphs o'er the tomb.
In beauty come to pledge her virgin vow.
Oh! not with mortal thoughts those cheeks are dyed,
Those downcast eyes not touch'd with mortal woe;
The eyes of seraphim behold her now,
And, veiling their bright foreheads with the plume,
They lay before her feet their chaplets low.
Daughter of princes, heir of glory, come!
Open ye gates of peace. She triumphs o'er the tomb.
“Come, beautiful, betroth'd! The bitter sting
Of hope deferr'd can reach no bosom here,
Here life is peace, unwreck'd by dreams that spring
From the dark bosom's living sepulchre.
At these high gates die sorrow, sin, and fear.
Woe to the heart where passion pours its tide;
Soon sinks the flood to leave the desert there;
Here love's pure stream with hues of heaven is dyed.
Come, child of Paradise. Come, Heaven's immortal bride.”
Of hope deferr'd can reach no bosom here,
Here life is peace, unwreck'd by dreams that spring
From the dark bosom's living sepulchre.
At these high gates die sorrow, sin, and fear.
Woe to the heart where passion pours its tide;
Soon sinks the flood to leave the desert there;
Here love's pure stream with hues of heaven is dyed.
Come, child of Paradise. Come, Heaven's immortal bride.”
| The Poetical Works of the Rev. George Croly | |