Jesus died upon the mountain, There His precious blood was spilt. Now an ever flowing fountain Cleanseth me from all my guilt. Hence my soul, endowed with pinions, Leaves for heaven's fair dominions, There in blissful joy to see God, the holy Trinity. In those fair celestial regions All is life and peace and joy. Souls are there in countless legions, Happy in the Lord's employ. There bright Seraphim are dwelling, Who, in majesty excelling, Praise with heaven's mighty host Father, Son and Holy Ghost There the patriarchs are living, There the prophets all abide. There, to Jesus homage giving, His apostles, too, reside. There the Lord's whole congregation Has a place of habitation. There, to honor God, their King, All their hallelujahs sing. O thou city of the sainted, Heavenly Jerusalem! How thy beauty is untainted, Sparkling like a precious gem! What soft music there is sounding, What sweet joys are there abounding! Night shall never follow day, But the sun shall reign for aye. Ah, mine eyes have seen the glory Of that city fair and high, And mine ears have heard the story Of those mansions in the sky. Now the pure white robe of heaven And a crown to me are given, Now that light of joy is mine Which shall never cease to shine. John G. Albinus, 1652. Tr. H. Brueckner, 1918. Jerusalem, du hochgebaute Stadt. Jerusalem, thou city built on high, Would God I were in thee! My eager spirit hath so yearned to fly And bides no more with me. O'er hill and valley mounting High, high o'er fields and wastes, O'er all, all worthless counting, Afar from earth it hastes. O lovely day, O hour more lovely still, When wilt thou be revealed, When blissfully, my voice with joy athrill, My soul to God I yield, His pledge ordained, unfailing In His all-faithful hand, That haven waits my hailing In yonder Fatherland? 'Twill mount in e'en the twinkling of an eye Beyond the firmament, So wondrously, so gently laying by Its outworn earthly tent; Midst chariots ascending While bright angelic bands, Around it safe attending, Will bear it in their hands. All hail to thee, O glorious city, now! Lift up thy gates of grace How long the time I yearned for thee, and how, Before I reached this place From yonder life of grieving, Of vanity and strife, From God at length receiving The heritage of life.