1859. A SONG OF THE NIGHT. 491 



Girdle of the truth of God ! 



Breastplate of His righteousness ! 

 By the Lord Himself bestowed 



On his faithful witnesses, 

 Never have I dared unclasp thee, 

 Lest the subtle foe should grasp me ; 

 Now I may at length unbind ye, 

 Leave you here at rest behind me ; 

 Nought shall harm my soul equipped 

 In a robe in Christ's blood dipped. 



Sandals of the preparation 



Of the news of peace ! 

 There must now be separation, 



Here your uses cease. 

 Gladly shall my naked feet 

 Go my blessed Lord to meet ; 

 I shall wander at his side 

 Where the living waters glide ; 

 And these feet shall need no guard 

 On the unbroken heavenly sward. 



Here I stand of all unclothed, 



Waiting to be clothed upon 

 By the Church's great Betrothed, 



By the Everlasting One. 

 Hark ! He turns the admitting key, 

 Smiles in love, and welcomes me ; 

 Glorious forms of angels bright 

 Clothe me in the raiment white, 

 Whilst their sweet-toned voices say, 

 " For the rest, wait thou till the Judgment Day." 



