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“ IT SHALL COME TO PASS IN THE LAST DAYS."
BEHOLD, the mountain of the Lord
In latter days shall rise
And draw the wondering eyes.
To this the joyful nations round,
All tribes and tongues, shall flow ;
And to his house, we'll go.
The beam that shines from Zion's hill,
Shall lighten every land;
Shall all the world command.
Among the nations He shall judge ;
His judgments truth shall guide ;
And quell the sinner's pride.
No strife shall rage, nor hostile feuds
Disturb those peaceful years ; To ploughshares men shall beat their swords,
To pruning-hooks their spears.
No longer hosts, encountering hosts,
Shall crowds of slain deplore ; They bang the trumpet in the hall,
And study war no more.
Come then, O house of Jacob! come
To worship at his shrine,
With holy beauties shine.
ENEATH our feet and o'er our head
Above us is the Heaven!
Their names are graven on the stone,
Their bones are in the clay ;
Ourselves may be as they.
Death rides on every passing breeze,
He lurks in every flower ;
Its peril every hour!