Lord of the worlds above,
How plea­sant and how fair
The dwell­ings of Thy love,
Thine earth­ly tem­ples are!
To Thine abode, my heart as­pires
With warm de­sires to see my God.

The spar­row for her young
With plea­sure seeks a nest,
And wan­der­ing swal­lows long to find
Their wont­ed rest:
My spir­it faints with eq­ual zeal
To rise and dwell among thy saints.

O hap­py souls that pray
Where God ap­points to hear!
O hap­py men that pay their con­stant
Service there!
They praise Thee still; and hap­py they
That love the way to Zi­on’s hill.

They go from strength to strength,
Through this dark vale of tears,
Till each ar­rives at length,
Till each in Heav’n appears;
O glo­ri­ous seat,
When God, our king, shall thi­ther bring
Our will­ing feet!

To spend one sac­red day
Where God and saints abide,
Affords di­vin­er joy
Than thou­sand days be­side:
Where God re­sorts,
I love it more to keep the door
Than shine in courts.

God is our sun and shield,
Our light and our de­fense;
With gifts His hands are filled;
We draw our bless­ings thence.
He shall be­stow
On Ja­cob’s race pe­cul­iar grace
And glo­ry, too.

The Lord His peo­ple loves;
His hand no good with­holds
From those His heart app­roves,
From pure and pi­ous souls:
Thrice hap­py he,
O God of hosts, whose spir­it trusts
Alone in Thee.