How glo­ri­ous Sion’s courts appear,
The city of our God!
His throne He hath established here
Here fixed His loved abode.

Its wall, defended by His grace
No power shall e’er o’erthrow,
Salvation is its bulwark sure
Against th’assailing foe.

Lift up the ev­er­last­ing gates,
The doors wide open fling;
Enter, ye nations, who obey
The statutes of our king.

Here shall ye taste unmingled joys,
And dwell in perfect peace,
Ye, who have known Je­ho­vah’s name,
And trusted in His grace.

Trust in the Lord, for­ev­er trust,
And banish all your fears;
Strength in the Lord Je­ho­vah dwells
Eternal as His years.

What though the wicked dwell on high,
His arm shall bring them low;
Low as the caverns of the grave
Their lofty heads shall bow.

Along the dust shall then be spread
Their towers, that brave the skies:
On them the needy’s feet shall tread,
And on their ruins rise.