Obscures their Vision of delight,
No noise doth interrupt their voice,
They doe incessantly rejoyce.
Mayst thou my Soule, now be so bold,
That glorious place for to behold,
And say, how that faire Cities blest,
In which the righteous shall have rest.
The wals are rais'd of Gems more bright,
Then are the Diamonds here in sight:
The Saphire, Diamond, Ruby fine,
Their beauty in each one combine.
The other Gems their lustre bright,
With them doe give so fine a light;
That like the Rainbow it doth show,
But far more bright, you'l think I know.
Most glorious things, are said of thee
Thou City, where the mighties bee,
The streets, are of the purest mold,
Exceeding farr, the brightest gold;
And from Gods glorious Throne doth spring
A River that sweet pleasures bring,
Adorn'd with many a goodly tree,
Which fresh and flourishing ever bee.
They doe not onely please the eye,
But heal the wounds, would make us dye,
Nor fruitlesse doe their trees appear,
But pleasant fruit yeeld all the year.
I doe not wonder, fruit so rife
Upon these goodly Trees of life.
No change, doth in this place appeare,
No scorching heat, nor cold is here.
This heav'n the bright Lamb his wife gives,
And she in this place alwayes lives.
She is more lovely then the Rose,
Fresh, faire and beauteous, and still goes,
In long white Robes, so pure and clear,