Thrice-happy, happy souls, to you heaven's debt
Is paid; you in your heavenly spheres are set.
Whence this to you? ah, noble blood ye shed,
And your strong faith the strong world buffeted.
O ever-ripening harvest of long light;
O Spring, O day not halved with lingering night;
O hands with laughing palms, O crowned brows;
O spotless robes, whiter than virgin snows!
The beauteous eyes of fadeless Peace ye see--
The eyes of the sweet Lamb; yea--woe is me! A.