URBS BEATA JERUSALEM.
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Who for Christ's dear Name, in this world
Pain and tribulation bore.
Many a blow and biting sculpture
Polish'd well those stones elect,
In their places now compacted
By the Heavenly Architect,
Who therewith hath will'd for ever
That His Palace should be deck'd.
Christ is made the sure Foundation,
And the precious Corner-stone,
Who, the two-fold walls surmounting,
Binds them closely into one:
Holy Sion's help for ever,
And her confidence alone.
All that dedicated City,
Dearly lov'd by God on high,
In exultant jubilation
Pours perpetual melody;
God the One, and God the Trinal,
Singing everlastingly.
To this Temple,[1] where we call Thee,
Come, O Lord of Hosts, to-day!
With Thy wonted loving-kindness
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