Lord, set her bars and gates,

All of brightest heaven waits

To see the city fully clad

In glory, saints no longer sad,

Walls no longer broken.

Light and peace are Heaven’s token.

Those who hail her, love her, build her

Become her walls, her incense altar,

Worship, yield and serve by faith,

The grandest end of mortal breath.

Call them, who have places waiting,

Citizens, whose invitation

To wedding feast so surely shows

Their city ’tis, that ever goes

On in peace, in glory and in God.

PKC 11/25/2013