Crowned.

Her thoughts are sweet glimpses of heaven, Her life is that heaven brought down; Oh, never to mortal was given So rare and bejewelled a crown! I'll wear it as saints wear the glory That radiantly clasps them above— Oh, dower most fair! Oh, diadem rare! Bright crown of her maidenly love. My heart is a fane of devotion, My feelings are converts at prayer, And every thrill of emotion Makes dearer the crown I would wear. My soul in its fulness of rapture Begins its millennial reign, Life glows like a sun, Love's zenith is won, And Joy is sole monarch again. My noonday of life is as morning, God's light streams approvingly down; Uncovered, I wait her adorning, She comes with the beautiful crown! I'll wear it as saints wear the glory That radiantly clasps them above— Oh, dower most fair! Oh, diadem rare! Bright crown of her maidenly love.