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7 Strive, man, to win that glory ;

Toil, man, to gain that light;
Send hope before to grasp it,

Till hope be lost in sight. Amen.

2

PART II.
1 BRIEF life is here our portion,

Brief sorrow, short-lived care ;
The life that knows no ending,

The tearless life, is there.
O happy retribution !

Short toil, eternal rest ;
For mortals and for sinners

A mansion with the blest! 3 And now we fight the battle,

But then shall wear the crown
Of full and everlasting

And passionless renown :
4 And now we watch and struggle,

And now we live in hope,
And Syon, in her anguish,

With Babylon must cope ;
5 But He, whom now we trust in,

Shall then be seen and known ;
And they that know and see Him

Shall have Him for their own.
6 Yes ! God my King and Portion,

In fulness of His grace,
We then shall see for ever,

And worship face to face. Amen.

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2

PART III.
FOR thee, O dear, dear Country!

Mine eyes their vigils keep;
For very love, beholding

Thy happy name, they weep.
The mention of thy glory

Is unction to the breast,
And medicine in sickness,

And love, and life, and rest. 3 O one, O only Mansion !

O Paradise of Joy!
Where tears are ever banished,

And smiles have nu alloy ;
4 With jaspers glow thy bulwarks,

Thy streets with emeralds blaze ; The sardis and the topaz

Unite in thee their rays;
5 Thine ageless walls are bonded

With amethyst unpriced ;
The saints build up its fabric,

And the corner-stone is Christ. 6 The Cross is all thy splendour ;

The Crucified thy praise ;
His laud and benediction

Thy ransomed people raise.
7 Thou hast no shore, fair ocean!

Thou hast no time, bright day! Dear fountain of refreshment

To pilgrims far away!

7 Strive, man, to win that glory ;

Toil, man, to gain that light;
Send hope before to grasp it,

Till hope be lost in sight. Amen.

I

2

PART II.
BRIEF life is here our portion,

Brief sorrow, short-lived care;
The life that knows no ending,

The tearless life, is there.
O happy retribution !

Short toil, eternal rest;
For mortals and for sinners

A mansion with the blest !
3 And now we fight the battle,

But then shall wear the crown
Of full and everlasting

And passionless renown :
4 And now we watch and struggle,

And now we live in hope,
And Syon, in her anguish,

With Babylon must cope ;
5 But He, whom now we trust in,

Shall then be seen and known;
And they that know and see Him

Shall have Him for their own.
6 Yes! God my King and Portion,

In fulness of His grace,
We then shall see for ever,

And worship face to face. Amen.

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2

PART III.
For thee, O dear, dear Country !
FOR

,
Mine
eyes

their vigils keep ;
For very love, beholding

Thy happy name, they weep.
The mention of thy glory

Is unction to the breast,
And medicine in sickness,

And love, and life, and rest. 3 O one, O only Mansion !

O Paradise of Joy!
Where tears are ever banished,

And smiles have nu alloy ;
4 With jaspers glow thy bulwarks,

Thy streets with emeralds blaze ; The sardis and the topaz

Unite in thee their rays;
5 Thine ageless walls are bonded

With amethyst unpriced ;
The saints build up its fabric,

And the corner-stone is Christ. 6 The Cross is all thy splendour ;

The Crucified thy praise ;
His laud and benediction

Thy ransomed people raise.
7 Thou hast no shore, fair ocean !

Thou hast no time, bright day! Dear fountain of refreshment

To pilgrims far away!

8 Upon the Rock of Ages

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

And thine the golden dower.

I

2

PART IV.
JERUSALEM, the golden !

With milk and honey blest ;
Beneath thy contemplation

Sink heart and voice opprest.
I know not, oh! I know not

What social joys are there;
What radiancy of glory,

What light beyond compare.
3 They stand, those halls of Syon,

Conjubilant with song,
And bright with many an angel,

And all the martyr throng:
4 The Prince is ever in them,

The daylight is serene:
The pastures of the blessèd

Are decked in glorious sheen.
5 Jerusalem, the glorious !

The glory of the elect!
O dear and future vision

That eager hearts expect!
6 O fields that know no sorrow !

O state that fears no strife!
O princely bowers ! O land of flowers !
O realm and home of light !

Bernard of Cluny. 7. M. Neale. (tr.)

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