In Zion’s sac­red gates
Let hymns of praise be­gin,
While acts of faith and love
In cease­less beau­ty shine;
In mer­cy there, while God is known,
Before His throne with songs ap­pear.

The pro­mis­es I sing,
Which so­ve­reign love hath spoke;
Nor will our heav’n­ly king
His words of grace re­voke;
They stand se­cure, and stead­fast still,
Nor Zi­on’s hill abides so sure.

The mount­ains melt away,
When once the Judge ap­pears;
And sun and moon de­cay,
That mea­sure mor­tal years;
But still the same, in ra­di­ant lines,
Thy pro­mise shines thro’ all the flame.

Rejoice! Our Lord is king!
Our God and king adore;
Yea, all give thanks and sing,
And tri­umph ev­er­more;
Lift up the heart, lift up the voice,
Rejoice aloud, let all re­joice.