O where are kings and empires now Of old, that went and came? But Lord, Thy Church is praying yet, A thousand years the same. We mark her goodly battlements And her foundations strong; We hear, within, the solemn voice Of her unending song. For not like kingdoms of the world Thy holy Church, O God, Though earthquake shocks are threat'ning her, And tempests are abroad. Unshaken as eternal hills, Immovable she stands, A mountain that shall fill the earth, A house not made by hands.
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