[_The first sings and plays the cithern_.]
O cliffs and rocks! O thorny woods! O shore!
O hills and dales! O valleys, rivers, seas!
How do your new-discovered beauties please?
O Nymph, 'tis yours the guerdon rare,
If now the open skies shine fair;
O happy wanderings, well spent and o'er!
[_The second sings and plays to his mandolin_.]
O happy wanderings, well spent and o'er!
Say then, O Circe, these heroic tears,
These griefs, endured through tedious months and years,
Were as a grace divine bestowed
If now our weary travail is no more.
[_The third sings and plays to his lyre_.]
If now our weary travail is no more!
If this sweet haven be our destined rest,
Then naught remains but to be blest,
To thank our God for all his gifts,
Who from our eyes the veil uplifts,
Where shines the light upon the heavenly shore,
[_The fourth sings to the viol_.]
Where shines the light upon the heavenly shore!
O blindness, dearer far than others' sight!
O sweeter grief than earth's most sweet delight!
For ye have led the erring soul
By gradual steps to this fair goal,
And through the darkness into light we soar.
[_The fifth sings to a Spanish timbrel_.]
And through the darkness into light we soar!
To full fruition all high thought is brought,
With such brave patience that ev'n we
At least the only path can see,
And in his noblest work our God adore.
[_The sixth sings to a lute_.]
And in his noblest work our God adore!
God doth not will joy should to joy succeed,
Nor ill shall be of other ill the seed;
But in his hand the wheel of fate
Turns, now depressed and now elate,
Evolving day from night for evermore.
[_The seventh sings to the Irish harp_.]
Evolving day from night for evermore!
And as yon robe of glorious nightly fire
Pales when the morning beams to noon aspire,
Thus He who rules with law eternal,
Creating order fair diurnal,
Casts down the proud and doth exalt the poor.
[_The eighth plays with a viol and bow_.]
Casts down the proud and doth exalt the poor!
And with an equal hand maintains
The boundless worlds which He sustains,
And scatters all our finite sense
At thought of His omnipotence,
Clouded awhile, to be revealed once more.
[_The ninth plays upon the rebeck_.]
Clouded awhile, to be revealed once more!
Thus neither doubt nor fear avails;
O'er all the incomparable End prevails,
O'er fair champaign and mountain,
O'er river-brink and fountain,
And o'er the shocks of seas and perils of the shore.
Translation of Isa Blagden.
