The Holy City, sung by Harry MacDonald, Edison Records. Last night I lay asleep, there came a dream so fair, I stood in old Jerusalem, beside the temple there. I heard the children singing, and ever as they sang, they talked of the voice of angels from heaven and on the Rhine.
Jerusalem, Jerusalem, lift up your gates and sing, Hosanna in the highest, Hosanna to your King. And once again the scene was changed, to earth there seemed to be, I saw the Holy City, beside the tideless sea. The light of God was on its tree, the gates were open wide, and all who would might enter, and no one was denied.
No need of moon or stars by night, or sun to shine by day, it was the beauty of Jerusalem that would not pass away. It was the beauty of Jerusalem that would not pass away. Jerusalem, Jerusalem, sing Hosanna in the highest, Hosanna forevermore.
Hosanna in the highest, Hosanna forevermore.
Transcribed by AI from the recording above. These are noisy hundred-year-old cylinders, so expect misheard words and the occasional invented line — trust your ears over the text.
Audio public domain, courtesy of the UCSB Cylinder Audio Archive. Transcript CC BY 4.0. Free to reuse, including commercially, with credit.