Praise waits in Zi­on, Lord, for Thee;
There shall our vows be paid:
Thou hast an ear when sin­ners pray,
All flesh shall seek Thine aid.

Lord, our ini­qui­ties pre­vail,
But par­don­ing grace is Thine,
And Thou will grant us pow­er and skill
To con­quer ev­ery sin.

Blessed are the men whom Thou wilt choose
To bring them near Thy face,
Give them a dwell­ing in Thine house,
To feast up­on Thy grace.

In an­swer­ing what Thy Church re­quests
Thy truth and ter­ror shine,
And works of dread­ful right­eous­ness
Fulfill Thy kind de­sign.

Thus shall the won­der­ing na­tions see
The Lord is good and just;
And dist­ant is­lands fly to Thee
And make Thy name their trust.

They dread Thy glit­ter­ing to­kens, Lord,
When signs in Heav’n ap­pear;
But they shall learn Thy ho­ly Word,
And love as well as fear.