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And may the promise of Advent be yours this day and always.

The world is very evil

Representative Text

1 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.

2 Arise, arise, good Christian,
Let right to wrong succeed;
Let penitential sorrow
To heav'nly gladness lead
To light that hath no evening,
That knows no moon nor sun,
The light so new and golden,
The light that is but one.

3 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:
Short toil, eternal rest;
For mortals and for sinners
A mansion with the blest!

4 And now we light the battle,
But then shall wear the crown
Of full and everlasting
And passionless renown;
And now we watch and struggle,
And now we live in hope,
And Zion in her anguish
With Babylon must cope.

5 But He whom now we trust in
Shall then be seen and known;
And they that know and see Him
Shall have Him for their own.
And there is David's fountain
And life in fullest glow;
And there the light is golden,
And milk and honey flow.

6 O home of fadeless splendor,
Of flow'rs that bear no thorn,
Where they shall dwell as children
Who here as exiles mourn.
Midst pow'r that knows no limit,
Where knowledge has no bound,
The beatific vision
Shall glad the saints around.

7 Jerusalem the golden,
With milk and honey blessed,
Beneath thy contemplation
Sink heart and voice oppressed.
I know not, O I know not,
What joys await us there,
What radiancy of glory,
What bliss beyond compare.

8 They stand, those halls of Zion,
All jubilant with song
And bright with many an angel
And all the martyr throng.
The Prince is ever in them;
The daylight is serene;
The pastures of the blessed
Are decked in glorious sheen.

9 There is the throne of David;
And there, from care released,
The shout of them that triumph,
The song of them that feast;
And they who with their Leader
Have conquered in the fight
Forever and forever
Are clad in robes of white.

10 For thee, O dear, dear country,
Mine eyes their vigils keep;
For very love, beholding
Thy happy name, they weep.
The mention of thy glory
Is unction to the breast
And medicine in sickness
And love and life and rest.

11 O one, O only mansion,
O Paradise of joy,
Where tears are ever banished
And smiles have no alloy!
The Lamb is all thy splendor,
The Crucified thy praise;
His laud and benediction
Thy ransomed people raise.

12 With jasper glow thy bulwarks,
Thy streets with em'ralds 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,
The cornerstone is Christ.

13 Thou hast no shore, fair ocean;
Thou hast no time, bright day,
Dear fountain of refreshment
To pilgrims far away!
Upon the Rock of Ages
they raise thy holy tower;
Thine is the victor's laurel
And thine the golden dower.

14 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.



Source: Evangelical Lutheran Hymnary #534

Translator: J. M. Neale

John M. Neale's life is a study in contrasts: born into an evangelical home, he had sympathies toward Rome; in perpetual ill health, he was incredibly productive; of scholarly tem­perament, he devoted much time to improving social conditions in his area; often ignored or despised by his contemporaries, he is lauded today for his contributions to the church and hymnody. Neale's gifts came to expression early–he won the Seatonian prize for religious poetry eleven times while a student at Trinity College, Cambridge, England. He was ordained in the Church of England in 1842, but ill health and his strong support of the Oxford Movement kept him from ordinary parish ministry. So Neale spent the years between 1846 and 1866 as a warden of Sackvi… Go to person page >

Author: Bernard, of Cluny

Bernard of Morlaix, or of Cluny, for he is equally well known by both titles, was an Englishman by extraction, both his parents being natives of this country. He was b., however, in France very early in the 12th cent, at Morlaix, Bretagne. Little or nothing is known of his life, beyond the fact that he entered the Abbey of Cluny, of which at that time Peter the Venerable, who filled the post from 1122 to 1156, was the head. There, so far as we know, he spent his whole after-life, and there he probably died, though the exact date of his death, as well as of his birth is unrecorded. The Abbey of Cluny was at that period at the zenith of its wealth and fame. Its buildings, especially its church (which was unequalled by any in France); the serv… Go to person page >

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The Cyber Hymnal #7627
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Evangelical Lutheran Hymnary #534

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