1 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.

2 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.

3 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, where God, our King,
Shall thither bring our willing feet!

4 God is our Sun and Shield,
Our Light and our Defense;
With gifts his hands are filled;
We draw our blessings thence.
Thrice happy he, O God of hosts,
Whose spirit trusts alone in thee.