Normale Version: Mendelssohn
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This of the children of the bride-chamber
Was, sure, who mourn not, for the bridegroom yet
With them abideth. Pure of passion's fret,
His song the springs of love and peace doth stir,

Brimming with bliss unmingled heart and ear,
As of the harps before the White Throne set,
That, with their golden jubilance, unlet
Of time, hymn on in heaven's eternal year.

Whilst in this weary world yet hearts there be,
Which forth unto sweet music fain must go,
Still shall his glory fill the lands, though he,

From fret of life and death delivered long,
The rapturous tides of heaven ebb and flow
Feeleth and hearkeneth to the angels' song.