Idiomela for All Saints

Hymns of the Eastern Church, by J.M. Neale, [1884], at sacred-texts.com

p. 115

IDIOMELA FOR ALL SAINTS.

by S. John Damascene.

τὰς ἑδρὰς τὰς αἰωνίας.

Those eternal bowers
  Man hath never trod,
Those unfading flowers
  Round the Throne of God:
Who may hope to gain them
  After weary fight?
Who at length attain them
  Clad in robes of white?

He, who gladly barters
  All on earthly ground;
He who, like the Martyrs,
  Says, 'I will be crown’d:' p. 116
He, whose one oblation
  Is a life of love;
Clinging to the nation
  Of the Blest above.

Shame upon you, legions
  Of the Heavenly King,
Denizens of regions
  Past imagining!
What! with pipe and tabor
  Fool away the light,
When He bids you labour,
  When He tells you,—'Fight!'

While I do my duty,
  Struggling through the tide,
Whisper Thou of beauty
  On the other side! p. 117
Tell who will the story
  Of our now distress:
Oh the future glory!
  Oh the loveliness!

[No. 3 in H. E. C. A very sweet melody.]