How pleased and blest was I
To hear the peo­ple cry,
Come, let us seek our God to­day;
Yes, with a cheer­ful zeal
We haste to Zi­on’s hill,
And there our vows and hon­ors pay.

Zion, thrice hap­py place,
Adorned with won­drous grace,
And walls of strength em­brace thee round;
In thee our tribes ap­pear
To pray, and praise, and hear
The sac­red Gos­pel’s joy­ful sound.

There Da­vid’s great­er Son
Has fixed His roy­al throne,
He sits for grace and judg­ment there:
He bids the saint be glad,
He makes the sin­ner sad,
And hum­ble souls re­joice with fear.

May peace at­tend thy gate,
And joy with­in thee wait
To bless the soul of ev­ery guest!
The man that seeks thy peace,
And wish­es thine in­crease,
A thou­sand bless­ings on him rest!

My tongue re­peats her vows,
Peace to this sac­red house!
For there my friends and kin­dred dwell;
And since my glo­ri­ous God
Makes thee His blest abode,
My soul shall ev­er love thee well.