Olof Wexionius (1656–1690)

Translated by Edmund Gosse

THE EARTHLY roses at God’s call have made

Way, lady, for a dress of heavenly white,

In which thou walk’st with other figures bright,

Once loved on earth, who now, like thee arrayed,

Feast on two-fold ambrosia, wine and bread;

They lead thee up by sinuous paths of light

Through lilied fields that sparkle in God’s sight,

And crown thee with delights that never fade.

O thou thrice-sainted mother, in that bliss,

Forget not thy two daughters, whom a kiss

At parting left as sad as thou art glad;

In thy deep joy think how for thee they weep,

Or conjure through the shifting glass of sleep

The saint heaven hath, the mother once they had.