That thou art the king of hearts shall be charged,
For slander’s fool hath airy word implied;
The cloak of the Sun bears a burden enlarged,
And sheep in tow oft to their master cried.
So thou be bronze of skin and speak in tongue,
Stranger in thine own land, yet forgotten
Bow down and hear the song that he hath sung,
To the low of spirit misbegotten.
Thou hast called in angelic voice declare;
Come to me thou who art heavy laden
For neither pain nor pleasure thee despair;
Whose lives, our own redemption was paid in.
And in thy glory let all nations repair
For the end, at heav’ns gate, I see thee there.