Chapter IX

Open for me the gates of delight,
The gates of the garden of man’s desire;
Where spirits touched by heavenly fire
Have planted the trees of life.
Their branches in beauty are spread,
Their fruit divine
To the nations is given for bread
And crushed into wine.

To thee, O man, the sun his truth hath given;
The moon hath whispered in love her silvery dreams;
Night hath unlockt the starry heaven,
The sea the trust of his streams;
And the rapture of woodland spring
Is stayed in its flying,
And Death cannot sting
Its beauty undying.

Fear and Pity discontinue
Their aching beams in colors fine;
Pain and woe forego their might.
After darkness thy leaping sight,
After dumbness thy dancing sound,
After fainting thy heavenly flight,
After sorrow thy pleasure crowned:
Oh, enter the garden of thy delight,
Thy solace is found.