Classic Poem

Behold! the mountain of the Lord
In latter days shall rise,
Above the mountains and the hills,
And draw the wondering eyes.

To this the joyful nations round
All tribes and tongues shall flow,
Up to the Hill of God they 'll say,
And to His house we 'll go.

The beam that shines on Zion hill
Shall lighten every land;
The King who reigns in Zion towers
Shall all the world command.

No strife shall vex Messiah's reign,
Or mar the peaceful years;
To ploughshares soon they beat their swords,
To pruning-hooks their spears.

No longer hosts encountering hosts,
Their millions slain deplore;
They hang the trumpet in the hall,
And study war no more.

Come then—O come from every land,
To worship at His shrine;
And, walking in the light of God,
With holy beauties shine.