CXIX. GOD the everlasting Light of the Saints above.

YE golden Lamps of Heav'n , farewel,
With all your feeble Light:
Farewel, thou ever-changing Moon,
Pale Empress of the Night.

And thou refulgent Orb of Day
In brighter Flames array'd,
My Soul, that springs beyond thy Sphere,
No more demands thine Aid.

Ye Stars are but the shining Dust
Of my divine Abode,
The Pavement of those heav'nly Courts,
Where I shall reign with GOD.

The Father of eternal Light
Shall there his Beams display;
Nor shall one Moment's Darkness mix
With that unvaried Day.

No more the Drops of piercing Grief
Shall swell into mine Eves;
Nor the Meridian Sun decline
Amidst those brighter Skies.

There all the Millions of his Saints
Shall in one Song unite,
And Each the Bliss of all shall view
With infinite Delight.