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132
MEDIÆVAL HYMNS.

Blest is that Country, ever blest,
Which knoweth naught save joy and rest!
Whose citizens for ever raise
The long unbroken swell of praise!

Whom sweetness, more than earthly, fills;
Who know no grief, and mourn no ills;
Whom never more can foe alarm,
Nor storm approach to work them harm.

One day of those most glorious rays
Is better than ten thousand days:
Refulgent with celestial light,
And with God's fullest knowledge bright.

This cannot human fancy know,
Nor tongue of men nor angels show,
Till endless life the victory brings
That gives for earthly, heavenly things.

Let this our meditation be
Along the vale of misery;
This occupy each sleeping hour,
And exercise each waking power.

Thus shall we gain, this exile past,
Our Country's Blessed Crown at last;
Thus in His Glory shall adore
The King of Ages evermore.