The fa­thers built this city
In ag­es long ago,
And bu­sy in the bu­sy streets,
They hur­ried to and fro;
The child­ren played around them,
And sang the songs of yore,
Till one by one they fell asleep,
To work and play no more.

Yet still the city stand­eth,
A hive of toil­ing men,
And mo­ther’s love makes hap­py home
For child­ren now as then;
O God of ag­es, help us,
Such ci­ti­zens to be,
That child­ren’s child­ren here may sing
The songs of li­ber­ty.

Let all the peo­ple praise Thee,
Give all Thy sav­ing health,
Or vain the la­bor­er’s strong right arm
And vain the mer­chant’s wealth;
Send out Thy light to ban­ish
The sha­dows of the shame,
Till all the ci­vic vir­tues shine
Around our ci­ty’s name.

A com­mon­weal of bro­thers,
United, great and small,
Upon our ban­ner bla­zoned be
The char­ter, Each for all!
Nor let us cease from bat­tle,
Nor wea­ry sheathe the sword,
Until this ci­ty is be­come
The ci­ty of the Lord.