The Crown

I know where a wond'rous city rises from a shining plain;
enemies assault her dome of gold and lapis all in vain.
Both the journey and its goal, she calls her children to her breast.
Trust in her, delight in her, and she will give you rest.

I see where a beacon tower solid as a mountain stands
carving out a golden road through churning seas and barren lands.
Scorn and laughter do no more to hide its light than fog or rain;
trust in it, rejoice in it, the way will be made plain.

I hear where a mighty hero shouts in triumph to the skies,
fearless and invincible, whom all creation magnifies.
Heaven trembles at that laughter, hosts of angels all bow down;
trust in it, exult in it, to you belongs the crown.