The Church. Ps. 100. 4; 122
I. Watts C.M.
1
How did my heart rejoice to hear
My friends devoutly say,
“In Zion let us all appear,
And keep the solemn day”!
2
I love her gates; I love the road;
The church, adorned with grace,
Stands like a palace built for God
To show his milder face.
3
Up to her courts, with joys unknown,
The holy tribes repair;
The Son of David holds his throne,
And sits in judgment there.
4
He hears our praises and complaints,
And, while his awful voice
Divides the sinners from the saints,
We tremble and rejoice.
5
Peace be within this sacred place,
And joy a constant guest;
With holy gifts and heavenly grace,
Be her attendants blest.
6
My soul shall pray for Zion still,
While life or breath remains;
There my best friends, my kindred dwell;
There God my Saviour reigns.
