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ELY CATHEDRAL (Second Tune). 7.6.7.6.D.

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Copyright, 1910, by G. Schirmer.

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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 bonded
With amethyst unpriced;
The saints build up thy fabric,
And the corner-stone is Christ.
4 The Cross is all thy splendour,
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.
5 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. Amen.

ST. BERNARD OF CLUNY, 1145;
Tr. JOHN MASON NEALE, 1858.

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513

BEULAH.

1 There is

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a land of pure de-light, Where saints im -mortal reign;

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Eternal day excludes the night, And pleasures banish pain. A-men.

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When shall my labours have an end In joy, and peace, and thee? Amen.

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2 When shall these eyes thy heaven-built walls
And pearly gates behold?

Thy bulwarks, with salvation strong,
And streets of shining gold?

3 There happier bowers than Eden's bloom,
Nor sin nor sorrow know:

Blest seats! through rude and stormy scenes
I onward press to you.

4 Why should I shrink from pain and woe,
Or feel at death dismay?

I've Canaan's goodly land in view,
And realms of endless day.

5 Apostles, martyrs, prophets, there
Around my Saviour stand:
And soon my friends in Christ below
Will join the glorious band.

6 Jerusalem, my happy home,

My soul still pants for thee;

Then shall my labours have an end,

When I thy joys shall see.

JOSEPH BROMEHEAD, 1795, based on "F. B. P.," 1583.

Alternative Tune, JERUSALEM, No. 510 1.

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And ever last - ing light Its glory throws a round.

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A-men.

2 There is a land of peace:
Good angels know it well;
Glad songs that never cease
Within its portals swell;
Around its glorious throne

Ten thousand saints adore
Christ, with the Father One,
And Spirit, evermore.

3 O joy all joys beyond,

To see the Lamb Who died, And count each sacred wound In hands, and feet, and side!

To give to Him the praise

Of every triumph won,
And sing through endless days

The great things He hath done!
4 Look up, ye saints of God!
Nor fear to tread below
The path your Saviour trod
Of daily toil and woe!
Wait but a little while

In uncomplaining love!
His own most gracious smile
Shall welcome you above.

HENRY W. BAKER, 1861.

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