Katharine Lee Bates

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AT last, at last the Crescent
Falls back before the Cross.
Great spirits, incandescent
With longing and with loss,
Gleam from the clouds, crusaders
Who knew no requiem
While Saladin's invaders
Possessed Jerusalem.
King David harps for Zion
A glad, celestial psalm;
The face of the young lion
Is toward the sacred palm;
New Europe's noblest nation
Has won the diadem
Of him who brings salvation
To thee, Jerusalem.
Isaiah, Hosea, Amos,
Who cried against thy sin,
Whose vision saw thy famous
Bright bulwarks beaten in
And made a cup of trembling,
God's house a broken gem,
On all the winds assembling
Comfort Jerusalem.
The Christ, Messiah proven,
Whose Gentile armies free
Thy walls, not battle-cloven,
But won with jubilee;
As when thy people, pressing,
Would touch His garment's hem,
Enters with love and blessing
Thy gates, Jerusalem.
Arise and shine, O City,
The joy of all the earth!
Show poverty God's pity;
Teach misery God's mirth.
Be thou to all the nations
A light, ay, even to them
Who wrought thy tribulations,
Holy Jerusalem!

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