The Church. Ps. 122. 1-7; Zech. 8. 21

I. Watts             122nd

How pleased and blest was I,
To hear the people cry,
“Come, let us seek our God today!”
Yes, with a cheerful zeal,
We haste to Zion’s hill,
And there our vows and honours pay.

Zion, thrice happy place!
Adorned with wondrous grace,
And walls of strength embrace thee round;
In thee our tribes appear,
To pray, and praise, and hear
The sacred gospel’s joyful sound.

There David’s greater Son
Has fixed his royal throne;
He sits for grace and judgment there.
He bids the saints be glad;
He makes the sinner sad,
And humble souls rejoice with fear.

May peace attend thy gate,
And joy within thee wait,
To bless the soul of every guest;
The man that seeks thy peace,
And wishes thy increase,
A thousand blessings on him rest.

My tongue repeats her vows,
“Peace to this sacred house,”
For there my friends and kindred dwell;
And since my glorious God
Makes thee his blest abode,
My soul shall ever love thee well.


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