O holy city, seen of John

474 Ford Cottage. 8. 6. 8. 6. 8. 6.

1 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.

2 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.

3 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!”

4 Give us, O God, the strength to build
   the city that hath stood
   too long a dream, whose laws are love,
   whose crown is servanthood,
   and where the sun that shineth is
   God’s grace for human good.

5 Already in the mind of God
   that city riseth fair:
   lo, how its splendor challenges
   the souls that greatly dare;
   yea, bids us seize the whole of life
   and build its glory there.
                         Walter Russell Bowie
                         The Methodist Hymnal 1939 edition