LIFE EVERLASTING 619 Jerusalem, Thou City Fair and High Matt. 17: 1–9 10. 6. 10. 6. 7. 6. 7. 6. Jerusalem, du hochgebaute Stadt Johann M. Meyfart, 1626 Tr., Catherine Winkworth, 1858, alt. Jerusalem, du hochgebaute Stadt Melchior Franck, 1663 fold grace earth come were I of from thou Re When Would The gates leased wilt God me. ties, last, thee! to ly at in sa py hail! space, day lem, on, ment’s 4 O 3 A 2 O 1 Je Zi mo hap ru hour, now won hap fair y, tly, far y ly, high, un drous pier and gen yet cit Bright and and thou cit I was low stand stay er set eth with will prom Ere Thro’ Whose It ise not these yet all long free skies fast, me. My When E How time char to heart y a jah’s less ing I iot my fain, man li fear would thee up love thee old thee, pow’r, fly, of to and longed bears Fa fain to for her ther’s shad meet will field ver of to ly Yon While For Far world down sure o come hand plain, y ow her His and yon yon soul o life shin glad dark der I ver To From vale My Far der? ness, gions, tain, of ing ly and sad re ren moun ther of it her age, home. land. pain. come ness, bid heav’n, leave fa world wel The her her this I sought. God It Lead The naught, ed with to giv gel ance its had an guid seek hastes her bless And tain der glad And To And the gions ten en le Foun 5 What glorious throng and what resplendent host Comes sweeping swiftly down? The chosen ones on earth who wrought the most, The Church’s brightest crown, Our Lord hath set to meet me, As in the far-off years Their words oft came to greet me In yonder land of tears. 6 The patriarchs’ and prophets’ noble train, With all Christ’s followers true, Who bore the cross and could the worst disdain That tyrants dared to do, I see them shine forever, All-glorious as the sun, Mid light that fadeth never, Their perfect freedom won. 7 And when within that lovely Paradise At last I safely dwell, What songs of bliss shall from my lips arise, What joy my tongue shall tell, While all the saints are singing Hosannas o’er and o’er, Pure hallelujahs ringing Around me evermore! 8 Unnumbered choirs before the shining throne Their joyful anthems raise Till heav’n’s glad halls are echoing with the tone Of that great hymn of praise And all its host rejoices, And all its blessèd throng Unite their myriad voices In one eternal song.