The earth for ev­er is the Lord’s,
With Ad­am’s nu­mer­ous race;
He raised its arch­es o’er the floods,
And built it on the seas.

But who among the sons of men
May vi­sit Thine abode?
He that has hands from mis­chief clean,
Whose heart is right with God.

This is the man may rise and take
The bless­ings of His grace;
This is the lot of those that seek
The God of Ja­cob’s face.

Now let our souls’ im­mor­tal pow­ers
To meet the Lord pre­pare;
Lift up their ev­er­last­ing doors,
The King of Glo­ry’s near.

The King of Glo­ry! Who can tell
The won­ders of His might?
He rules the na­tions; but to dwell
With saints is His de­light.