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JERUSALEM, my happy, home,
When shall my labours have an end,

In joy and peace, and thee?
2 When shall these eyes thy heaven-built walls,

And pearly gates behold?
Thy bulwarks with salvation strong,

And streets of shining gold ?
3 There happier bowers than Eden's bloom,

Nor sin nor sorrow know :
Blest seats! through rude and stormy scenes,

I onward press to you.
4 Why should I shrink from pain and woe,

Or feel at death dismay ?
I've Canaan's goodly land in view,

And realms of endless day.

6 Apostles, martyrs, prophets, there

Around my Saviour stand;
And soon my friends in Christ below

Will join the glorious band.
6 Jerusalem, my happy home!

My soul still pants for thee :
Then shall my labours have an end,
When I thy joys shall see.

Anon. (1801).

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Urbs Syon aurca, Patria lactea." 1

4 The Prince is ever in them; With milk and honey blest,

The daylight is serene;
Beneath thy contemplation

The pastures of the Blessed
Sink heart and voice opprest.

Are decked in glorious sheen. 2 I know not, О I know not,

5 There is the Throne of David ; What social joys are there;

And there, from care releas'd, What radiancy of glory,

The song of them that triumph, What light beyond compare.

The shout of them that feast. 3 They stand, those halls of Sion,

6 And they, who, with their Leader, Conjubilant with song,

Have conquered in the fight, And bright with many an angel,

For ever and for ever
And all the martyr throng.

Are clad in robes of white.
John Mason Neale, 1861. From Bernard of Morlaix.


"Christe, wares Seelenlicht.”





REV. VII. 13-17. 1

2 These through fiery trials trod; This innumerable throng,

These froin great affliction came; Round the altar, night and day,

Now, before the Throne of God, Hymning one triumphant song!

Seal'd with His Almighty Name, “Worthy is the Lamb, once slain,

Clad in raiment pure and white, “Blessing, honour, glory, power,

Victor-palms in every hand, “Wisdom, riches, to obtain,

Through their dear Redeemer's might, “New dominion every hour.”

More than conquerors they stand. 3 Hunger, thirst, disease unknown,

On immortal fruits they feed;
Them the Lamb amidst the Throne

Shall to living fountains lead:
Joy and gladness banish sighs ;

Perfect love dispels all fear;
And for ever from their eyes
God shall wipe away the tear.

James Montgomery, 1819.

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Nearer the throne than cherubs stand,
With glory crown'd, in white array,

My wondering soul says, who are they?
2 These are the saints beloved of God,

Wash'd are their robes in Jesus' blood,
More spotless than the purest white

They shine in uncreated light.
3 Through tribulation great they came,

They bore the cross, and scorned the shame:
Within the Living Temple blest,

In God they dwell, and on Him rest.
4 Hunger they ne'er shall fear again,

Nor burning thirst shall they sustain:
To wells of living water led,

By God the Lamb for ever fed.
5 Unknown to mortal ears, they sing

The secret glories of their King:
Tell me the subject of their lays,

And whence their loud exalted praise ?
6 Jesus, the Saviour, is their theme;

They sing the wonders of His Name;
To Him ascribing power and grace,

Dominion, and eternal praise.
7 Amen! they cry, to Him alone,

Who dares to fill His Father's throne;
They give Him glory, and again
Repeat His praise, and say, Amen!

Rowland Hill, 1783.

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And walk with Jesus, clothed in white;
Safe landed on that peaceful shore,

Where pilgrims meet to part no more.
2 Released from sin, and toil, and grief,

Death was their gate to endless life;
An open'd cage, to let them fly

And build their happy nest on high.
3 And now they range the heavenly plains,

And sing their hymns in melting strains;
And now their souls begin to prove

The heights and depths of Jesus' love.
4 He cheers them with eternal smile;

They sing hosannas all the while;
Or, overwhelm'd with rapture sweet,

Sink down adoring at His feet.
5 Ah! Lord! with tardy steps I creep,

And sometimes sing, and sometimes weep;
Yet strip me of this house of clay,
And I will sing as loud as they.

John Berridge, 1785.

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