The Glory of Paradise
Latin Hymn By Peter Damiani (1007-1072)
For the fount of living waters panting, like the weary hart,
Prison'd beats my soul its barriers, madly striving to depart;
Walks about, and frets, and struggles homes forsaken to regain,
Drags at each remove untravell'd, pilgrim still, a lengthen'd chain:
Pines the blessing by transgressing lost to earth, in dreary mood,
Bitter makes a present sorrow thinking of departed good.
Who can count the rays of glory, jewell'd on the Priestly vest,
Where, with living pearls uplifted, soar the mansions of the blest?
Roofs all gold, and golden conches for the saintly presence meet,
Gold, like crystal seas pellucid, shining pathways for their feet;
Only gems the star-like fabric "fitly join'd together" hold,
Nought that staineth now remaineth in the unpolluted fold.
Winters horrid, summers torrid, vex no more the stilly clime,
But the purple bloom of roses sheds an everlasting prime;
Pales the lily, glows the crocus, balms their drowsy sweets distil,
Smile the meadows, sing the corn-fields, honied dew-drops swell the rill;
Odorous clouds of fragrant incense spice the aromatic breeze,
Autmn's fruits, and spring's first promise, bend the ever-blossom'd trees.
Pale-sick moons no more are waning, stars bespangle not the night,
God is now that City's sunshine, and the Lamb its living light;
Eve and morn divide no longer, noons dispense a deepening ray,
For each Saint is now in glory, shining to the perfect day:
Crown'd they shout their Jubilates, joyous now the fight is done,
Safely, now the foe is prostrate, boast them how the field was won.
Purified of inwrought leaven, warring sin they know no more,
Spirit now is flesh, and spirit what was only flesh before;
Peace, intensest peace, enjoying, stumbling ways no more to scan,
Changed from every shift of changing, mount they where their life began;
Present, not through glasses darkly, see the Glory, face to face,
Lift their pitchers to the fountain welling with eternal grace.
Bathed anew in heavenly lavers, hence they keep their first estate,
Vivid, jocund, brightly sitting o'er the water-floods of fate.
Sickness comes not to the healthy, lovely youth fears no decay,
Hence they grasp eternal essence, for to pass hath pass'd away;
Thus, decay itself declining, in celestial vigour rife,
Mortal with immortal blending, death they swallow up in life.
Knowing Him who knoweth all things, what to them shall not be known?
Heart to heart unbars its secrets lock'd within the fleshly zone,
One thing choosing, one refusing, one way all their currents fall;
Divers though the crowns of glory, meted at the Judgment Throne,
What she loves in others' brightness, charity hath made her own,
So the gifts of one excelling are the common joy of all.
Where the body, there the eagles thick their broad-wing'd pinions thrust,
Serried throngs of Angels mingle with the Spirits of the Just;
Banquet on one Heavenly Manna Citizens of either State,
Ever fill'd, and ever longing, satisfied, insatiate;
Filling hath for them no fulness, hungring still they know no pain,
Part their holy lips for feasting, feast and part them yet again.
Heavenly strains melodious voices echo each to other's notes,
With the pent-up roar of organs, swelling in a thousand throats;
How they chant the Song of Moses, now the Lamb is all their praise,—
"God, Thy works how great, how wondrons, King of Saints, how just Thy ways!"
Happy while they see the Glory, yet beneath the Throne sublime
Watch the sun and planets whirling earthward on the grooves of time.
Only might in them that conquer, only blessing of the blest,
Girt no more for battle lead me, Jesu, to Thy City's rest!
Make me sharer of Thy bounty with those Heavenly legions bright;
Lend me strength or e'er I perish in this never-ending fight;
Finish now my course with gladness, loose the helmet from my brow;
All things to Thyself subduing, Saviour, let me win Thee now! Amen.
