England! awake! awake! awake!

England! awake! awake! awake!
       Jerusalem thy Sister calls!
   Why wilt thou sleep the sleep of death
       And close her from thy ancient walls?

   Thy hills and valleys felt her feet
       Gently upon their bosoms move:
   Thy gates beheld sweet Zion's ways:
       Then was a time of joy and love.

   And now the time returns again:
      Our souls exult, and London's towers
  Receive the Lamb of God to dwell
      In England's green and pleasant bowers.