Come, let us join a joy­ful tune,
To our ex­alt­ed Lord,
Ye saints on high around His throne,
And we around His board.

While once upon this low­er ground
Weary and faint ye stood,
What dear re­fresh­ments here ye found
From this im­mor­tal food!

The tree of life, that near the throne
In Heav’n’s high gar­den grows,
Laden with grace, bends gent­ly down
Its ever smil­ing boughs.

Hovering amongst the leaves there stands
The sweet ce­le­sti­al Dove;
And Je­sus on the branch­es hangs
The ban­ner of His love.

’Tis a young Heav’n of strange de­light
While in his shade we sit;
His fruit is pleas­ing to the sight,
And to the taste as sweet.

New life it spreads through dy­ing hearts,
And cheers the droop­ing mind;
Vigor and joy the juice im­parts,
Without a sting be­hind.

Now let the flam­ing wea­pon stand,
And guard all Ed­en’s trees;
There’s ne’er a plant in all that land
That bears such fruits as these.

Infinite grace our souls adore,
Whose won­drous hand has made
This liv­ing branch of so­ve­reign pow­er
To raise and heal the dead.