THE HEAVENLY HOME
Region of light eterne,
Sweet field, whose plenteous store love's garner fills,
The which no heat may burn,
No frost untimely kills,
Whose balmy fragrance heavenly peace distills!
See, in those pleasant meads,
His bright locks garlanded with flowers of spring,
How the Good Shepherd leads,
And, without crook or sling,
To pastures green His well-loved flock doth bring.
And as He gently leads
Behold the happy sheep behind Him going!
These with fair flowers He feeds,
Roses for ever blowing,
And, as they gather them, forever growing.
And now unto the mountain
Of high perfection these, His sheep, He guides,
Now bathes them in the fountain,
Wherein pure joy abides;
Pastor and pasture, He alone provides.
When, traveling towards the west,
The Sun stands midway in the heavenly sphere,
He takes His noontide rest,
His loved ones gathering near,
And with sweet song delights the holy ear.
And happiness untold
Possess them that listen to His lyre,
And poor seems earthly gold
As, filled with sacred fire,
He lifts the enraptured spirit ever higher.
O music, that at least
But some few notes might reach me from above,
And that the Soul's pure feast
Might every stain remove,
And make her one with Thee, O God of love!
Then would she dwell in peace
With Thee, sweet Spouse, and e'en as one new born,
Gain from the flesh release,
No more imprisoned mourn,
Nor wander far from Thee as one forlorn.
Fray Luis de León
Translation by Ida Farnell