The gate to bliss does open stand,
And all my penance is in view
The world, upon the other hand,
Cries out: O do not, do not bid adieu!'
Yet sacred sir, in these extremes,
Where pomp and pride their glories tell
Where youth and beauty are the themes,
And plead their moving cause so well
If aught that's vain my thoughts possess,
Or any passion govern here
But what divinity may bless,
O may I never enter there!

What, what can pomp or glory do?
Or what can human charms persuade?
The mind that has a heav'n in view,
How can it be by earth betray'd?
No monarch full of youth and fame,
The joy of eyes and nature's pride,
Should once my thoughts from heav'n reclaim,
Tho' now he woo'd me for his bride.

Haste then, O haste then, and take us in,
For ever lock religion's door,
Secure us, secure us from the charms of sin,
And let us see the world no more!