Fair Raiment

O that my prayers could raiment you in splendour, —
Heaven's mystic grace soft-spun to golden haze,
Gemmed with the radiant jewels of the tender
God-given memories of good, glad days!

O that my love could clothe you with the glory
Of its own vision of your loveliness,
Fined and refined with touch absolutory,
Wove and inwove with eucharistic grace!

O that my joy could clothe you with the wonder
Of its own joyfulness in that you are!
What though our paths lie as the poles asunder,
I can thank God and worship from afar.

O that my hope could clothe you in its glowing
All-radiant faith in that which yet shall be,
When, with a gladness beyond mortal knowing,
Love claims its crown of immortality.
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