It’s oh in Paradise that I fain would be,
;;Away from earth and weariness and all beside;
Earth is too full of loss with its dividing sea,
;;But Paradise upbuilds the bower for the bride.
Where flowers are yet in bud while the boughs are green,
;;I would get quit of earth and get robed for heaven;
Putting on my raiment white within the screen,
;;Putting on my crown of gold whose gems are seven
Fair is the fourfold river that maketh no moan,
;;Fair are the trees fruit-bearing of the wood,
Fair are the gold and bdellium and the onyx stone,
;;And I know the gold of that land is good.
O my love, my dove, lift up your eyes
;;Toward the eastern gate like an opening rose;
You and I who parted will meet in Paradise,
;;Pass within and sing when the gates unclose.
This life is but the passage of a day,
;;This life is but a pang and all is over;
But in the life to come which fades not away
;;Every love shall abide and every lover.
He who wore out pleasure and mastered all lore,
;;Solomon, wrote “Vanity of vanities:”
Down to death, of all that went before
;;In his mighty long life, the record is this.
With loves by the hundred, wealth beyond measure,
;;Is this he who wrote “Vanity of vanities”?
Yea, “Vanity of vanities” he saith of pleasure,
;;And of all he learned set his seal to this.
Yet we love and faint not, for our love is one,
;;And we hope and flag not, for our hope is sure,
Although there be nothing new beneath the sun
;;And no help for life and for death no cure.
The road to death is life, the gate of life is death,
;;We who wake shall sleep, we shall wax who wane;
Let us not vex our souls for stoppage of a breath,
;;The fall of a river that turneth not again.
Be the road short, and be the gate near,–
Shall a short road tire, a strait gate appall?
The loves that meet in Paradise shall cast out fear,
And Paradise hath room for you and me and all.