Sonnet XXXIX.

_ON THE LORD'S PRAYER._
No. 3.
_Allor potrete orar._
Then shall ye pray with every hour that flies;
Thy kingdom come, and let Thy will be done
On earth as in the spheres above the sun,
When all we hoped and wished shall bless our eyes.
Poets shall see their Age of Gold arise,
Fairer than feigned in hymn or orison;
Yea, all the realm by Adam's sin undone
Shall be restored in sinless Paradise.
Philosophers shall govern for their own
That perfect commonwealth whereof they write,
The which on earth as yet was never known.
Judah to Sion shall return with might
Of greater wonders than shook Pharaoh's throne,
From Babylon, to bless the prophets' sight.