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The Holy City
Last night I lay a sleeping,
There came a dream so fair,
I stood in old Jerusalem
Beside the temple
there.
I heard the children singing,
And ever as they sang,
Methought the voice of angels
From Heav’n in answer rang;
Methought the voice of angels
From Heav’n in answer rang:—
“Jerusalem! Jerusalem!
Lift up your gates and sing,
Hosanna in the
highest
Hosanna to your King!”
And then methought my dream was chang’d,
The streets no longer rang,
Hush’d were the glad
hosannas
The little children sang.
The sun grew dark with mystery,
The morn was cold and chill,
As the shadow of a cross
arose
Upon a lonely hill,
As the shadow of a cross arose
Upon a lonely hill.
“Jerusalem! Jerusalem!
Hark! how the angels
sing,
Hosanna in the highest,
Hosanna to your King.”
And once again the scene was chang’d,
New earth there seem’d to
be,
I saw the Holy City
Beside the tideless sea;
The light of God was on its streets,
The gates were open wide,
And all who
would might enter,
And no one was denied.
No need of moon or stars by night,
Or sun to shine by day,
It was the new
Jerusalem,
That would not pass away,
It was the new Jerusalem,
That would not pass away.
“Jerusalem! Jerusalem!
Sing, for
the night is o’er!
Hosanna in the highest,
Hosanna for evermore!
Hosanna in the highest,
Hosanna for evermore!”
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