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The Holy Catholic Church. 125
The bleeding Martyrs, they Within those courts are found, Clothed in pure array, Their scars with glory crown'd : O happy place ! When shall I be, My God, with Thee, To see Thy face ?
Ah me ! Ah me ! that I In Kedar's tents here stay ! No place like this on high ! Thither, Lord ! guide my way ! O happy place! When shall I be, My God, with Thee, To see Thy face ?
Samuel Cross man. 1664
Jerusalem, my happy home,
Name ever dear to me ! When shall my labours have an end,
In joy and peace, and thee ?
When shall these eyes thy heaven-built walls,
And pearly gates behold ? Thy bulwarks with salvation strong,
And streets of shining gold ?
There happier bowers than Eden's bloom,
Nor sin nor sorrow know : Blest seats ! through rude and stormy scenes
I onward press to you.