III.
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PILGRIM from the northern seas—What joy for me to seek aloneThe wondrous temple and the throneOf him who holds the awful keys! When, bright with purple and with goldCome priest and holy cardinal,And borne above the heads of allThe gentle Shepherd of the Fold. O joy to see before I dieThe only God-anointed king,And hear the silver trumpets ringA triumph as he passes by! Or at the brazen-pillared shrineHolds high the mystic sacrifice,And shows his God to human eyesBeneath the veil of bread and wine.
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