9:3

2 O one, O only mansion!

O Paradise of joy!

Where tears are ever banished

And smiles have no alloy;

Thy loveliness oppresses

All human thought and heart,
And none, O Peace, O Sion,
Can sing thee as thou art.

3 With jasper glow thy bulwarks, Thy streets with emeralds blaze; The sardius and the topaz

Unite in thee their rays;

Thine ageless walls are bounded
With amethyst unpriced;
The saints build up thy fabric,

The corner stone is Christ.

4 The Cross is all thy splendor,
The Crucified thy praise;
His laud and benediction
Thy ransomed people raise:
Upon the Rock of Ages

They build thy holy tower;
Thine is the victor's laurel,

And thine the golden dower.
Bernard of Cluny, 1145 Tr. John M. Neale, 1851

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Isaac B. Woodbury, 1852

2 My Father's house on high,
Home of my soul, how near,
At times, to faith's foreseeing eye,
Thy golden gates appear:

Ah! then my spirit faints

To reach the land I love,
The bright inheritance of saints,
Jerusalem above.

3 For ever with the Lord!

Father, if 'tis Thy will,
The promise of that faithful word
E'en here to me fulfil;

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Be Thou at my right hand,

Then can I never fail;
Uphold Thou me, and I shall stand;
Fight, and I must prevail.

4 So when my latest breath

Shall rend the veil in twain,
By death I shall escape from death,
And life eternal gain.

Knowing as I am known,

How shall I love that word, And oft repeat before the throne, "For ever with the Lord!"

James Montgomery, 1835

9

2 They stand, those halls of Zion,
All jubilant with song,
And bright with many an angel
And all the martyr throng.
The Prince is ever in them,

The daylight is serene;
The pastures of the blessed

Are decked in glorious sheen.

3 There is the throne of David;

And there, from care released, The song of them that triumph,

The shout of them that feast;

And they who with their Leader
Have conquered in the fight,
For ever and for ever

Are clad in robes of white.
4 O sweet and blessed country,
The home of God's elect!
O sweet and blessed country

That eager hearts expect!
Jesus, in mercy bring us

To that dear land of rest;
Who art, with God the Father,

And Spirit, ever blest.

Bernard of Cluny, c. 1145 Trans. by John M. Neale, 1851

Henry J. Storer, 1891

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2 From every clime and kindred,
And nations from afar,
As serried ranks returning home

In triumph from a war,

I heard the saints upraising,

The myriad hosts among,

In praise of Him who died, and lives, Their one glad triumph-song.

3 I saw the holy city,

The New Jerusalem,

Come down from heaven, a bride adorned

With jewelled diadem:

The flood of crystal waters

Flowed down the golden street;

And nations brought their honors there, And laid them at her feet.