Into the rescued world newcomer,
The newly-dead stepped up, and cried,
“O what is that, sweeter than summer
Was to my heart before I died?
Sir (to an angel), what is yonder
More bright than the remembered skies,
A lovelier sight, a softer splendour
Than when the moon was wont to rise?
Surely no sinner wears such seeming
Even the Rescued World within?”
“O the success of His redeeming!
O child, it is a rescued sin!”