1
O happy souls who pray
Where God appoints to hear!
O happy Saints who pay
Their constant service there!
We praise him still;
And happy we;
We love the way
To Zion’s hill.
2
No burning heats by day,
Nor blasts of evening air,
Shall take our health away,
If God be with us there:
He is our sun,
And he our shade,
To guard the head
By night or noon.
3
God is the only Lord,
Our shield and our defence;
With gifts his hand is stor’d:
We draw our blessings thence.
He will bestow
On Jacob’s race,
Peculiar grace,
And glory too.