John Brownlie (trans.) · 45 of 55
Stichera
παράδεισε πάντιμε, τὸ ὡραιότατον κάλλος
I O Paradise above! In glory all excelling; There hath the God of love, Fixed an eternal dwelling; There loveliest beauty shines, And pleasure endless thrills; There love the soul entwines, And peace the bosom fills. The of God frequent its bowers, And whispers fan its fragrant flowers.
II Here would I humbly fall, Before my God adoring, That He may heed the call, I bring to Him imploring; And open wide the gate, Closed by the hand of sin, That, with the saints, thus late, I yet may enter in; And taste the tree of life that grows, To heal the smart of mortal woes.
