And it goes to be in ancient time Walk upon England's mountains Walk upon England's mountains green And was the Holy Lamb our God On England's pleasant mountain scene And in the countenance divine Shine forth upon our God in him And was the Holy Lamb we'll be near Among these dark, sun-shining hills Ring me my bow of burning gold Ring me my arrows of desire Ring me my spear of clouds untold Ring me my chariot of fire I will not cease from mental fight Nor shall my soul sleep in my hand Till we have built Jerusalem In England's clean and pleasant land *
