1 Come, we that love the Lord,
And let our joys be known,
Join in a song with sweet accord,
And thus surround the throne.
2 The sorrows of the mind
Be banish'd from this place:
Religion never was design'd
To make our pleasures less.]
3 Let those refuse to sing
That never knew our God,
But fav'rites of the heav'nly King
May speak their joys abroad.
4 [The God that rules on high,
And thunders when he please,
That rides upon the stormy sky,
And manages the seas:]
5 This awful God is ours,
Our Father and our love;
He will send down his heav'nly pow'rs
To carry us above.
6 There we shall see his face,
And never, never sin;
There from the rivers of his grace,
Drink endless pleasures in.
7 Yes, and before we rise
To that immortal state,
The thoughts of such amazing bliss
Should constant joys create.
8 [The men of grace have found
Glory begun below;
Celestial fruit on earthly ground,
From faith and hope may grow.]
9 The hill of Zion yields
A thousand sacred sweets,
Before we reach the heav'nly folds,
Or walk the golden streets.
10 Then let our songs abound,
And ev'ry tear be dry;
We're marching thro' Immanuel's ground
To fairer worlds on high.