A great city stood, on a hill so tall That it reached to the heavens and took in all Who came there to dwell in its rich home of peace, With a king strong and humble, A king and a priest, And a God who dwelt with them, There with them all. And the nations would come there to the city And worship their God, the strong and the mighty Who bowed down before the great mighty God, Who lived in that city, Their king and their God, Their shepherd king ruling With staff and with rod. God was their refuge, their strong hiding place, With him they dwelt in the strength of his grace, Their good judge and guide, their stronghold and tower, The source of all peace, Each day and hour, In whom they rejoiced That day and forever. And yet now consider its broken down walls; Watch, all of you people: the great city falls. It falls on its own strength, complacent and proud, Amidst scorn, it all falls, The scorn of the loud And indolent rich, The derision of the proud. Now stand in its ruins; look to the skies, Where comes all our help. Lift up your eyes. Like a slave to its master, look and implore, For his mercy and grace, To raise and restore The fallen, proud city Which is proud no more.