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Poem by John Newton
Zion, or the City of God
Glorious things of thee are spoken, Zion, city of our God; He whose word cannot be broken Formed thee for His own abode. On the Rock of Ages founded, What can shake thy sure repose? With salvation's walls surrounded Thou may'st smile at all thy foes. See, the streams of living waters Springing from eternal love Well supply thy sons and daughters And all fear of want remove. Who can faint while such a river Ever flows their thirst t'assuage Grace, which, like the Lord, the Giver, Never fails from age to age? Round each habitation hovering, See the cloud and fire appear, For a glory and a covering, Showing that the Lord is near. Thus they march, the pillar leading, Light by night and shade by day, Daily on the manna feeding Which He gives them when they pray. Blest inhabitants of Zion, Washed in the Redeemer's blood! Jesus, whom their souls rely on, Makes them kings and priests to God. 'Tis His love His people raises Over self to reign as kings, And as priests, His solemn praises Each for a thank-offering brings. Savior, if of Zion's city I through grace a member am, Let the world deride or pity, I will glory in Thy name. Fading is the worldling's pleasure, All his boasted pomp and show; Solid joys and lasting treasure None but Zion's children know.
John Newton's other poems:
English Poetry. E-mail firstname.lastname@example.org