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XV This Jerusalem Lamb had never stain

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this jerusalem lamb had never stain

of other hue than perfect white,

that showeth neither streak nor strain

of soil, but is like wool to sight;

and souls that free of sin remain

the lamb receiveth with delight;

and, though each day a group we gain,

there comes no strife for room nor right,

nor rivalry our bliss to blight.

the more the merrier, i profess.

in company our love grows bright,

in honour more and never less.

"lessening of bliss no comer brings

to us who bear this pearl at breast;

nor show they flaws nor tarnishings

who wear such pure pearls like a crest.

though round our corpses the clay clings,

and though ye mourn us without rest,

knowledge have we of goodly things.

through the first death our hope we test;

grief goes; at each mass we are blest

by the lamb who gives us happiness;

the bliss of each is bright and best,

and no one's honour is the less."

"that thou my tale the less may doubt,

in the revelation 'tis told, and more:

'i saw,' says john, 'a goodly rout

the hill of zion covering o'er,

the lamb, with maidens round about,

an hundred thousand and forty and four,

and each brow, fairly written out,

the lamb's name and his father's bore.

then a sound from heaven i heard outpour,

as streams, full laden, foam and press,

or as thunders among dark crags roar,

the tumult was, and nothing less."

"'nathless, though high that shout might ring,

and loud the voices sounding near,

a strain full new i heard them sing,

and sweet and strange it was to hear.

like harper's hands upon the string

was that new song they sang so clear;

the noble notes went vibrating,

and gentle words came to my ear.

close by god's throne, without one fear,

where the four beasts his power confess,

and the elders stand so grave of cheer,

they sang their new song, none the less."

"'nathless is none with skill so fine,

for all the crafts that ever he knew,

that of that song might sing a line;

save these that hold the lamb in view;

from earth brought to that land divine,

as first fruits that to god are due,

they serve the lamb and bear his sign,

as like himself in face and hue;

for never lying nor tale untrue

defiled their lips in life's distress;'

whatever might move them, they but drew

nearer the master, none the less."

"nevertheless, speak out i must,

my pearl, though queries rude i pose.

to try thy fair wit were unjust

whom christ to his own chamber chose.

behold, i am but dung and dust,

and thou a rare and radiant rose,

abiding here in life, and lust

of loveliness that ever grows.

a hind that no least cunning knows,

i needs must my one doubt express;

though boisterous as the wind that blows,

let my prayer move thee none the less."

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