THE GOLDEN CITY by Christian Burke

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Aug 22, 1900

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 26, No. 34.

THE GOLDEN CITY.

By Christian Burke

[Christian Burke, in the Argosy.]

FROM the days of St. John's Revelation The marvelous story is told, And down thro' the ages has come the song, The song of the city of gold.

To the innocent hearts of the children, To the toilers who faint 'neath earth's sun, To the old who have fought out its problems, To the dying whose journey is done,

Comes the dream of the mystical city, With color and loveliness rife, Iridescent its jeweled foundations, Flower-bordered its River of Life;

And the streets of the city are golden, And the sea as of crystal appears, And the sound of the harpers is in it, And it knows not of sorrow or tears.

Like a mirage far out in the desert, Like the fabric that fashions our dreams, Like some many-hued mirrored reflection, The heavenly Jerusalem seems.

We grope 'mid the types and the shadows, We fret at its vailing disguise; But our hearts can not grasp nor conceive it— Its glory is hid from our eyes.

We catch but a note of the music, A glimpse swiftly passing and faint, A hint of its wondrous perfection, Low whispered to seer and to saint.

Yet the glow of it shortens the journey, And our feet tread more bravely the road Which leads to the sorrowless city Whose Builder and Maker is God.

And thus, as a gift to the ages, The marvelous story flows on, And the heart of man rests on the vision That illumined the eyes of St. John.