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Our eyes behold a Citys platform mount;
Of craggéd róck-sills, lacking comeliness:
Old sea-grounds sédiments, long before Man was:
Heaped to two furlongs' height.
The city-walls
We pass beneath, to a strait and stoney place:
That lies without of Hebrew sepulchres.
Was there, before a tomb, one of those hewn;
Under low sculptured eaves, of living rock:
Where great wheel-stone is seen, two cubits thick;
Hard to be rolled, which closed the sepulchre:
Were upheld our approaching reverent steps.
So it seemeth us rádiant! Was it here Jeshua,
Of Judah, a Jew according to the flesh;
From cross was, píous, bý who lóved Him, láid?
Words that He taught, were words of deathless Life:
Such being as no mans lips, before His, spake.
Words which sown ín mens hearts, lift ever sith;
Souls from Earths dust, to Heavenly Fatherhood.

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All suddenly, ás we worshipped ín that place;
Seemed His adorable Vision ríse before us;
Like ás He appeared transfigured ín the mount.
Save that His temples wreathed now a thorny fret;
Whence sprang divine transcendent radiance forth;
Unto healing of all Nations of Round Earth.
In that He inwardly seemed to gaze upón us:
The hearts, like wax, were molten in our breasts.
When we no longer, ón that lightning countenance,
In Vision seen, durst fasten worldly gaze;
There wakened one nigh hand, mongst Strangers' tombs:
Stephen, an Hebrew Greek, and he not least
One, in first faithful Household óf Christs saints:
Who brought before Jews' Council, of chief priests
And elders, boldly affirmed; that were in Hím;
Whom, ígnorantly mén had put to death:
Fulfilled Gods promises, to the fathers made.