The Holy City

Last night I lay asleeping,
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 Heaven in anwer 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.
"Jerusalem! Jerusalem!
Hark! How the Angels sing,
Hosanna in the highest,
Hosanna th your King!"

And once again the scene was chang'd,
New earth there seem'd to be,
I saw the Holy City
Veside the tideless sea;
The light of God wa on its streets,
The gtes 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.
"Jerusalem! Jerusalem!
Sing, for the night is o'er,
Hosanna in the highest
Hosanna for evermore!"