Thus I saw the gate of Glory
Open wide, and just within
Saw my hostess, clad in garments
Such as earth could never spin,
Full of wonder as an angel
Held a starry circlet out,
Pointing to the jewels shining
All the golden crown about:
" Not so many stars, O angel!
Not so bright my risen crest!
I could do for Him so little
When I sought to do my best."
Then the silver speech of heaven
In my dream I plainly heard,
While the angel round the circle
Told each star with loving word:
"This, O true and faithful servant,
Is the token of thy prayer,
Crowning alms you gave the soldier,
Who you thought would never care.
"This, the word of pity spoken
To the outcast at your door;
This, thy whisper to the tempted,
Bridging times of weakness o'er;
This, the good word fitly spoken
For thine erring Christian friend;
This, thy patience under trial;
This, thy faith firm to the end."