Those Eternal Bowers

Verse 1

Those eternal bowers Man hath never trod, Those unfading flowers Round the Throne of GOD: Who may hope to gain them After weary fight? Who at length attain them Clad in robes of white?

Verse 2

He, who gladly barters All on earthly ground; He who, like the Martyrs, Says, ‘I WILL be crowned:’ He, whose one oblation Is a life of love; Clinging to the nation Of the Blest above.

Verse 3

Shame upon you, legions Of the Heavenly King, Denizens of regions Past imagining! What! with pipe and tabor Fool away the light, When He bids you labour,— When He tells you,—‘Fight!’

Verse 4

While I do my duty, Struggling through the tide, Whisper Thou of beauty On the other side! Tell who will the story Of our now distress: Oh the future glory! Oh the loveliness!