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Parry, John - Poem




The Words and the Tune, (Salem)




                                    On Zion’s land there will be rest,

                                    For all the Saints that’s here oppress’d;

                                    On Zion’s Mount we shall be free,

                                    And there we’ll have our Jubilee.




To California’s land we’ll go,

Where from the mountains wine doth flow;

A land of peace and liberty:

To California go with me!


No tyrant shall annoy us there—

We’ll serve our King without a fear;

In truth we’ll join with one accord,

To sing loud anthems to our Lord.

                     To California’s, &c.


The everlasting hills we’ll view,

And to England bid adieu;

In California’s beauty plains,

We’ll meet to learn celestial strains.

                     To California’s, &c.


O! lend your aid, ye morning wings!

And guard me safe through ocean springs,

That we may wait the Jubilee;

For on the Mount the feast will be.

                     To California’s, &c.


A feast of wines upon the lees,

With fat and marrow; and with these

The Lord will comfort Zion’s band—

Her wilderness like Eden’s land.

                     To California’s, &c.


And like the garden of the Lord

Her deserts bloom, and shall afford

Great joy and gladness, love and peace;

A voice of praise shall never cease.

                     To California’s, &c.


Rejoice, ye ransom’d of the Lord,

You shall return with one accord,

To sing and shout on Zion’s hill,

Where sighs nor sorrows never thrill.

                     To California’s, &c.


Come then, my friends, let us prepare,

To go and build a temple there:

A temple high above the hills,

Whom Jesus with his presence fills.

                     To California’s, &c.


For on the Mount our King shall reign,

Henceforth, for e’er, we’ll praise his name;

Then let our lyres be all prepared,

To strike the sound of heavenly choir.

                     To California’s, &c.


Hosannah to the King of kings;

He comes with healing in his wings;

He comes with pow’r on earth to reign—

All kings shall bow unto his name.

                     To California’s, &c.




The Author’s desire for his nation, the Welsh.


May Zion’s banner proudly wave

On Cambria’s hills, her sons to save—

May heaven’s best blessings rest on thee,

And like the dews of Hermon be.


Birkenhead, Sept. 25, 1848.


[Millennial Star, v. 11, no. 3, 1 Feb 1849, p. 47-48. Originally in English.]


Parry, John


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