SING a song of Paradise
Far above the skies—
Four-and-twenty Elders
And Monsters full of eyes!
Heaven’s gates are opened,
They all begin to sing,
Playing ball with golden crowns
Round about the King.
The King is in His counting-house,
Counting His elect,
The Queen comes from her chamber
Royally bedecked
With chrysoprase and amethyst
And jacinth without price…
Now is not this a pretty song
To sing of Paradise?
-Dorothy Sayers
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