158 THE FKIENDS 01" MAN.
Yet when Heaven's gate its golden bars undrew,
Memory walked that portal through, And spread her tablet to the Judge's eye, Heightening with clear response the welcome of the sky.
But Hope that glorious door Pass'd not : it was not hers to dwell Where pure desires to full fruition swell.
Her ministry was o'er : To cheer earth's pilgrim to the sky, To cleanse the tear-drop from his eye, Was hers, then to immortal Joy
Resign her brief employ, Yield her sweet harp, and die.