O FOR the vision of glory that broke
On the soul of the saint, apostle of love,
Who hung on the Master's lips when he spoke,
And beheld the Spirit in shape like a dove
Descend on his Lord, and heard from above
The voice that called Him His Son, and awoke
To the fact--the great fact--the centuries prove,
That matter serves Spirit as symbol and cloak!
His eyes were unsealed through love for the friend
Who had chastened his zeal and pointed the way
To the realm of the Lamb and bliss without end,
The splendors of Zion and perpetual day.
Love was the key to those portals of love
That opened to earth the mansions above.