We went to Calvary and stood just away. The prince of glory
was there, in the hands of the people, who crucified him
that day: Out on Judah's green hills, arrayed in the
light of white and gray.
We went to watch through the ages, the things that the
wicked would do. The works of the evil all the way
through. They have crucified his saints in all nations
of the earth. All of his saints that were true.
From the gates above Zion the Lord shall descend. His fiery
wheels flaming with power--scattering the wicked of men.
Who have slaughtered his saints in prisons of horrid
death; whosoever were known among them.
A billion angels at his right, intermingling with
others--the saints of might. Who has ascended from
death, enthroned with his light. Those that were burned
in the fire by the wicked, to spite. Comes inclosing the
evil in their eternal dark night.
The voice of the serpent,--that whispers from the mire of
the sea. Or that sigh of the evil, from the dust
ascending before thee. Each soul is still weeping--each
heart in sorrow alone. Or that mind of the living that
fell from his great throne.
What joy thought the evil, that wandered in sorrow's broad
trend. My soul has heard a wailing, as the song of the
serpent by men. O souls what ail thee, its envy's dark
cloud broader than the earth, and deeper than the sea.
Spread over the spirits--their wicked melee.
They were a war of those that danced, in the trend of
sorrow's vulgar wail. As the serpent held them by the
hand, they knew that they were inshrouded in the evil
dark vale. But "lo, lo," cried the company, "you shall
not from us depart, for even the soul that shall fail."
Your door that stands closed, as a storm that darkens the
noon. O soul of envy atroped senility that bloom. O you
mind of the wicked, the close of the day has arriven so
soon. No deeds of mercy, no work was begun, for in the
heart of the wicked, the race was never run.
You saints as the eagle from the heavens that cry. You
mountains of love all glorious and white ascending so
high. O beautiful souls, Mosier's hosts, in all creation
stand by. Watching over the earth and its hosts, no mind
of the living can die.
O beautiful songs from the great throne that be. To the mind
of all living--yet heard only by thee. The hosts of the
heaven as the winds or the waves of the sea. Giving to
every soul who has understanding and a portion of light
for me.
Alleuher is not mocked by the race, or the evil within. Not
by those who have fallen and rage, you terrors of sin:
He keeps his city and its hosts of the earth and the
air. The hours of the evil shall approach, but none of
them shall come there, to that beautiful Zion, that city
so fair.
Alleuher holds the order of life. All things in their hosts
and zones. A power is with them, for they are his own. A
lion and an eagle and a bull and the image of a man
living in his glory, and bearing to and fro his great
throne. His spirit descending through the hosts, the
souls of all men is known. His salvation for his saints,
his glory in order is shown.
Through the gates above Zion the hosts pass by, ascending
and descending by the silvering portals. Upon that
beautiful road he has built through the sky. All the
earth is full of his glory as the wind, his power is
nigh. His saints walk in his strength. There is no
death, there is none of his hosts that ever die.
* * * * *
was there, in the hands of the people, who crucified him
that day: Out on Judah's green hills, arrayed in the
light of white and gray.
We went to watch through the ages, the things that the
wicked would do. The works of the evil all the way
through. They have crucified his saints in all nations
of the earth. All of his saints that were true.
From the gates above Zion the Lord shall descend. His fiery
wheels flaming with power--scattering the wicked of men.
Who have slaughtered his saints in prisons of horrid
death; whosoever were known among them.
A billion angels at his right, intermingling with
others--the saints of might. Who has ascended from
death, enthroned with his light. Those that were burned
in the fire by the wicked, to spite. Comes inclosing the
evil in their eternal dark night.
The voice of the serpent,--that whispers from the mire of
the sea. Or that sigh of the evil, from the dust
ascending before thee. Each soul is still weeping--each
heart in sorrow alone. Or that mind of the living that
fell from his great throne.
What joy thought the evil, that wandered in sorrow's broad
trend. My soul has heard a wailing, as the song of the
serpent by men. O souls what ail thee, its envy's dark
cloud broader than the earth, and deeper than the sea.
Spread over the spirits--their wicked melee.
They were a war of those that danced, in the trend of
sorrow's vulgar wail. As the serpent held them by the
hand, they knew that they were inshrouded in the evil
dark vale. But "lo, lo," cried the company, "you shall
not from us depart, for even the soul that shall fail."
Your door that stands closed, as a storm that darkens the
noon. O soul of envy atroped senility that bloom. O you
mind of the wicked, the close of the day has arriven so
soon. No deeds of mercy, no work was begun, for in the
heart of the wicked, the race was never run.
You saints as the eagle from the heavens that cry. You
mountains of love all glorious and white ascending so
high. O beautiful souls, Mosier's hosts, in all creation
stand by. Watching over the earth and its hosts, no mind
of the living can die.
O beautiful songs from the great throne that be. To the mind
of all living--yet heard only by thee. The hosts of the
heaven as the winds or the waves of the sea. Giving to
every soul who has understanding and a portion of light
for me.
Alleuher is not mocked by the race, or the evil within. Not
by those who have fallen and rage, you terrors of sin:
He keeps his city and its hosts of the earth and the
air. The hours of the evil shall approach, but none of
them shall come there, to that beautiful Zion, that city
so fair.
Alleuher holds the order of life. All things in their hosts
and zones. A power is with them, for they are his own. A
lion and an eagle and a bull and the image of a man
living in his glory, and bearing to and fro his great
throne. His spirit descending through the hosts, the
souls of all men is known. His salvation for his saints,
his glory in order is shown.
Through the gates above Zion the hosts pass by, ascending
and descending by the silvering portals. Upon that
beautiful road he has built through the sky. All the
earth is full of his glory as the wind, his power is
nigh. His saints walk in his strength. There is no
death, there is none of his hosts that ever die.
* * * * *