The text is from a sermon by John Donne, a priest and poet:

Bring us, O Lord God, at our last awakening, into the house and gate of heaven, to enter into that gate and dwell in that house, where there shall be no darkness nor dazzling, but one equal light; no noise nor silence, but one equal music; no fears nor hopes, but one equal possession; no ends nor beginnings, but one equal eternity; in the habitations of thy glory and dominion world without end. Amen.

Donne’s words are about death and are often read as a prayer at funerals. But it is far from morbid. Donne flips death, often euphemistically referred to as “falling asleep”, and calls it “our last awakening”. We awake to God in heaven to find that we are no longer pulled by the binary opposites of darkness and dazzling, noise and silence, fears and hopes, ends and beginnings. Instead, we will find all things in balance, with composure, harmony and constancy. We will be at peace, free of struggle.

It has been said that Donne gives us a glimpse of heaven through his sublime words, and that Harris reveals even more of its wonder in his setting for double choir: the synergistic combination of words and music shimmers in holy serenity. We are drawn into the prayer’s ‘one equal music’.

Bring us, O Lord God was composed for unaccompanied double choir, featuring lush, intertwining harmonic lines. This use of eight-part vocal counterpoint creates a sound perfectly suited for cathedral acoustics. The piece is now a cornerstone of the choral repertoire. Reviewers often comment on the anthem's thick-texture and ardently emotional style that Harris uses to deliver a radiant picture of heaven. The anthem builds to a grand, resplendent climax before transitioning into a mystical and magical set of concluding 'Amens'.