O Holy City seen of John
Where Christ, the Lamb, doth reign
Within whose foursquare walls shall come
No night, nor need, nor pain
And where the tears are wiped from eyes
That shall not weep again!
Hark, how from men whose lives are held
More cheap than merchandise
From women struggling sore for bread
From little children's cries
There swells the sobbing human plaint
That bids thy walls arise!
O shame to us who rest content
While lust and greed for gain
In street and shop and tenement
Wring gold from human pain
And bitter lips in blind despair
Cry "Christ hath died in vain!"
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Give us, O God, the strength to build
The City that hath stood
Too long a dream, whose laws are love
Whose ways are brotherhood
And where the sun that shineth is
God's grace for human good
Already in the mind of God
That City riseth fair
Lo, how its spendor challenges
The souls that greatly dare
Yea, bids us seize the whole of life
And build its glory there!
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