 | Lyra Pastoralis |  |
Daniel
Imperial Persia bowed to his wise sway—A hundred provinces his daily care;
A queenly city with its gardens fair
Smiled round him—but his heart was far away.
Forsaking pomp and power “three times a day”
For chamber lone, he seeks his solace there;
Through windows opening westward floats his prayer
Tow'rds the dear distance where Jerusalem lay.
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And shutting my heart's door to Earth's vain pleasure
And manifold solicitudes, find leisure
The windows of my soul to open wide
Tow'rds that blest city and that heavenly treasure,
Which past these visible horizons hide.
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