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THE world is very evil, ⁠The times are waxing late; Be sober and keep vigil, ⁠The Judge is at the gate— The Judge that comes in mercy, ⁠The Judge that comes with might, To terminate the evil, ⁠To diadem the right. When the just and gentle Monarch ⁠Shall summon from the tomb, Let man, the guilty, tremble, ⁠For Man, the God, shall doom Arise, arise, good Christian, ⁠Let right to wrong succeed; Let penitential sorrow ⁠To heavenly gladness lead; To the light that hath no evening, ⁠That knows nor moon nor sun, The light so new and golden, ⁠The light that is but one. And when the Sole-Begotten ⁠Shall render up once more The Kingdom to the Father, ⁠Whose own it was before,— Then glory yet unheard of ⁠Shall shed abroad its ray, Resolving all enigmas, ⁠An endless Sabbath-day. Then, then from his oppressors ⁠The Hebrew shall go free, And celebrate in triumph ⁠The year of Jubilee; And the sunlit Land that recks not ⁠Of tempest nor of fight, Shall fold within its bosom ⁠Each happy Israelite: The Home of fadeless splendor, ⁠Of flowers that fear no thorn, Where they shall dwell as children, ⁠Who here as exiles mourn. Download Portable Illustrator.

Midst power that knows no limit, ⁠And wisdom free from bound, The Beatific Vision ⁠Shall glad the saints around: The peace of all the faithful, ⁠The calm of all the blest, Inviolate, unvaried, ⁠Divinest, sweetest, best. For war is needless,— ⁠Yes, calm!

For storm is past,— And goal from finished labor ⁠And anchorage at last. That peace—but who may claim it? ⁠The guileless in their way, Who keep the ranks of battle, ⁠Who mean the things they say: The peace that is for heaven, ⁠And shall be too, for earth: The palace that re-echoes ⁠With festal song and mirth; The garden, breathing spices, ⁠The paradise on high; Grace beautified to glory, ⁠Unceasing minstrelsy. There nothing can be feeble, ⁠There none can ever mourn, There nothing is divided, ⁠There nothing can be torn. 'Tis fury, ill, and scandal, ⁠'Tis peaceless peace below; Peace, endless, strifeless, ageless, ⁠The halls of Syon know. O happy, holy portion, ⁠Refection for the blest; True vision of true beauty, ⁠Sweet cure of all distrest! STRIVE, man, to win that glory, ⁠Toil, man, to gain that light; Send hope before to grasp it, ⁠Till hope be lost in sight: Till Jesus gives the portion ⁠Those blessed souls to fill, The insatiate, yet satisfied, ⁠The full, yet craving still.

That fulness and that craving ⁠Alike are free from pain, Where thou, midst heavenly citizens, ⁠A home like theirs shall gain. Here is the warlike trumpet; ⁠There, life set free from sin; When to the last Great Supper ⁠The faithful shall come in: When the heavenly net is laden ⁠With fishes many and great; So glorious in its fullness, ⁠Yet so inviolate: And the perfect from the shattered, ⁠And the fall'n from them that stand, And the sheep-flock from the goat-herd ⁠Shall part on either hand: And these shall pass to torment, ⁠And those shall to rest, The new peculiar nation, ⁠The fulness of the Blest. JERUSALEM demands them: ⁠They paid the price on earth, And now shall reap the harvest ⁠In blissfulness and mirth: The glorious holy people, ⁠Who evermore relied Upon their Chief and Father, ⁠The King, the Crucified: The sacred ransomed number ⁠Now bright with endless sheen, Who made the Cross their watchword ⁠Of Jesus Nazarene: Who, fed with heavenly nectar, ⁠Where soul-like odors play, Draw out the endless leisure ⁠Of that long vernal day: While through the sacred lilies, ⁠And flowers on every side, The happy dear-bought nations ⁠Go wandering far and wide. Their breasts are filled with gladness, ⁠Their mouths are tuned to praise, What time, now safe forever, ⁠On former sins they gaze: The fouler was the error, ⁠The sadder was the fall, The ampler are the praises ⁠Of Him who pardoned all Their one and only anthem, ⁠The fulness of His love, Who gives instead of torment, ⁠Eternal joys above: Instead of torment, glory; ⁠Instead of death, that life Wherewith your happy Country, ⁠True Isarelites! 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!