A city…whose builder and maker is God.@Hebrews 11:10
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Johann M. Meyfart (1590–1642)

Jo­hann M. Mey­fart, Tu­ba No­vis­si­ma (Co­burg, Ger­ma­ny: 1626) (Je­ru­sa­lem, du hoch­ge­baute Stadt). Trans­lated from Ger­man to En­glish by Cath­er­ine Wink­worth, Ly­ra Ger­man­ica, sec­ond ser­ies (Lon­don: Long­man, Brown, Green, Long­mans & Ro­berts, 1858), pag­es 220–22.

Jerusalem (Prae­tor­i­us) Mi­chael Prae­tor­i­us, 1610 (🔊 pdf nwc).

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Michael Praetorius (1571–1621)

Jerusalem, thou city fair and high,
Would God I were in thee!
My longing heart fain, fain to thee would fly,
It will not stay with me;
Far over vale and mountain,
Far over field and plain,
It hastes to seek its Fountain
And quit this world of pain.

Oh happy day, and yet far happier hour,
When wilt thou come at last?
When fearless to my Father’s love and power,
Whose promise standeth fast,
My soul I gladly render,
For surely will His hand
Lead her with guidance tender
To Heav’n, her fatherland.

A moment’s space, and gently, wondrously,
Released from earthly ties,
The fiery chariot bears her up to thee
Through all these lower skies,
To yonder shining regions,
While down to meet her come
The blessèd angel legions,
And bid her welcome home.

Oh hail thou glorious city! Now unfold
The gates of grace to me!
How many a time I longed for thee of old,
Ere yet I was set free
From yon dark life of sadness,
Yon world of shadowy nought,
And God had giv’n the gladness,
The heritage I sought.

Oh what the nation, what the glorious host,
Comes sweeping swiftly down?
The chosen ones on earth who wrought the most,
The Church’s brightest crown,
Our Lord hath sent to meet me,
As in the far-off years
Their words oft came to greet me
In yonder land of tears.

The patriarchs’ and prophets’ noble train,
With all Christ’s followers true,
Who bore the cross, and could the worst disdain
That tyrants dared to do,
I see them shine for ever,
All glorious as the sun,
’Mid light that fadeth never,
Their perfect freedom won.

And when within that lovely paradise
At last I safely dwell,
From out my blissful soul what songs shall rise,
What joy my lips shall tell,
While holy saints are singing
Hosannas o’er and o’er,
Pure hallelujahs ringing
Around me evermore.

Innumerous choirs before the shining throne
Their joyful anthems raise,
Till Heav’n’s glad halls are echoing with the tone
Of that great hymn of praise,
And all its host rejoices,
And all its blessèd throng
Unite their myriad voices
In one eternal song!