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Jerusalem, thou City blest!
Dear vision of celestial rest!
Which far above the starry sky,
Piled up with living stones on high,
Art, as a Bride, encircled bright,
With million angel forms of light:
Oh, wedded in a prosperous hour!
The Father's glory was thy dower;
The Spirit all His graces shed,
Thou peerless Queen, upon thy head;
Then Christ espoused thee for his Bride,
Oh City bright and glorified!
Thy gates a pearly lustre pour;
Thy gates are open evermore;
And thither evermore draw nigh
All who for Christ have dared to die;
Or smit with love of their dear Lord,
Have pains endured and joys abhorr'd.
Type of the Church which here we see,
Oh what a task hath builded thee!
Long did the chisels ring around!
Long did the mallets' blows rebound!
Long work'd the head, and toil'd the hand!
Ere stood thy stones as now they stand!
To God the Father, glory due
Be paid by all the heavenly Host;
And to his only Son most true;
With Thee, O mighty Holy Ghost!
To whom praise, pow'r, and blessing be,
Through th' ages of eternity.