(From the epistle to the last of the seven churches, in the Apocalypse)
Come buy, I beg, of my burning gold
To complete your coffers with prudent care
And lengths of linen of flowing white
That your nakedness may not appear;
Lave with aloes your lightless eyes
To behold the blessed sight of bliss.
I chastize the children of my choice,
Harry and hunt them, so haste to this:
Turn ye in truth your Lord unto
For close I stand and call at the door.
He who hears my call
And opens his hall
I will enter in
To dine with him;
For his swift feet
He will share my seat
Enthroned with me,
Even as I
My father's high,
He who has ears to hear, let him hear.