Inquire, ye pil­grims, for the way
That leads Zi­on’s hill,
And thi­ther set your stea­dy face
With full de­ter­mined will.

Invite the strang­ers all around
Your pi­ous march to join;
And spread the sen­ti­ments you feel
Of faith and love di­vine.

Come, let us to His te­mple haste,
And seek His fa­vor there,
Before His foot­stool hum­bly bow,
And pour our fer­vent pray­er.

Come, let us join our souls to God
In ev­er­last­ing bands,
And seize the bless­ings He be­stows
With ea­ger hearts and hands.

Come, let us seal with­out de­lay
The co­ve­nant of His grace;
Nor shall the years of dist­ant life
Its me­mo­ry ef­face.

Thus may our ris­ing off­spring haste
To seek their fa­thers’ God,
Nor e’er for­sake the hap­py path
Their youthful feet have trod.