Zion! the ci­ty of our God,
How glor­ious is the place!
The Sav­ior there has His ab­ode,
And sin­ners see His face!

Set firm against each ad­verse shock,
Its migh­ty bul­warks prove;
’Tis built up­on the liv­ing Rock,
And walled around with love.

There, all the fruits of glo­ry grow,
And joys that nev­er die;
And streams of grace and know­ledge flow,
The soul to sa­tis­fy.

Come, set your fac­es Zion-ward,
The sac­red road in­quire;
And let a un­ion to the Lord
Be hence­forth your desire!

The Gos­pel shines to give you light,
No long­er, then, delay;
The Spir­it waits to guide you right,
And Je­sus is the way.

O Lord, re­gard Thy peo­ple’s pray­er,
Thy pro­mise now ful­fill;
And young and old, by grace pre­pare,
To dwell on Zi­on’s hill.