The Cloisters: Sunday

Sweet day, let not the clouds of earthly Care
Come over thy calm brightness, let Reproof
And pale Remorse and Sadness stand aloof,
Let nought of worldly strife, or ruder air,
Ruffle, or rend the mantle thou dost wear !
The robe thou wear'st is all celestial woof,
Come from the grave with Jesus. Heaven's blue roof
Seems nearer earth, and all earth hath of fair
Is fairer. On thy calm and glassy floor
We sit in commune sweet, thy riches blest
Recounting, and forget that we are poor.
Let us be bright to meet thee, Angel guest,
With contemplations of enduring rest,
And with thee listen at the heavenly door.