Zion’s Universal Temple

UNDER the Orient skies of sapphire where the sun is all aglow,

With a radiance far surpassing all the western climes can know,

There’s a pathos haunting ever in the sunlight’s splendor there—

For old Zion’s temple mould’ring, for old Zion once so fair.

For old Zion once so fair,

But now wrapt in deep despair;

Fled the glory

Of its story,

Once of majesty so rare.

But away with all this moaning that is playing fast and loose

With the sentiments sure tending now to break a people’s truce;

For affection once divided, try it may, can never stand

As the symbol of the union that shall mark Messiah’s land—

Vision-traced Messiah’s land,

Where true love shall sway its wand.

Love the token

Of unbroken

Peace, that lords at God’s command.

Liquid gold of sun’s own moulding bent to make a world-wide dome,

Shall in future roof the temple marking every nation’s home:

Paved by earth and sea together, shall its tesselated floor

On its huge mosaic gather all the nations that adore—

Nations that shall soon adore

Zion’s God of cherished yore,

With the pæans

That the æons

Echo shall forevermore.