Verse > Anthologies > William Stanley Braithwaite, ed. > The Book of Elizabethan Verse
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William Stanley Braithwaite, ed.  The Book of Elizabethan Verse.  1907.
 
The New Jerusalem
Anonymous
 
HIERUSALEM, my happy home,
  When shall I come to thee?
When shall my sorrows have an end?
  Thy joys when shall I see?
 
O happy harbour of the Saints!        5
  O sweet and pleasant soil!
In thee no sorrow may be found,
  No grief, no care, no toil.
 
There lust and lucre cannot dwell,
  There envy bears no sway;        10
There is no hunger, heat, nor cold,
  But pleasure every way.
 
Thy walls are made of precious stones,
  Thy bulwarks diamonds square;
Thy gates are of right orient pearl,        15
  Exceeding rich and rare.
 
Thy turrets and thy pinnacles
  With carbuncles do shine;
Thy very streets are paved with gold,
  Surpassing clear and fine.        20
 
Ah, my sweet home, Hierusalem,
  Would God I were in thee!
Would God my woes were at an end,
  Thy joys that I might see!
 
Thy gardens and thy gallant walks        25
  Continually are green;
There grows such sweet and pleasant flowers
  As nowhere else are seen.
 
Quite through the streets, with silver sound,
  The flood of Life doth flow;        30
Upon whose banks on every side
  The wood of Life doth grow.
 
There trees for evermore bear fruit,
  And evermore do spring;
There evermore the angels sit,        35
  And evermore do sing.
 
Our Lady sings Magnificat
  With tones surpassing sweet;
And all the virgins bear their part,
  Sitting about her feet.        40
 
Hierusalem, my happy home,
  Would God I were in thee!
Would God my woes were at an end,
  Thy joys that I might see!
 
 
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