My friends devoutly say,
‘In Zion let us all appear,
And keep the solemn day!’
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.
Up to her courts with joys unknown
The holy tribes repair;
The Son of David holds his throne,
And sits in judgment there.
He hears our praises and complaints;
And while his awful voice
Divides the sinners from the saints,
We tremble and rejoice.
Peace be within this sacred place,
And joy a constant guest!
With holy gifts and heav’nly grace
Be her attendants blest!
My Soul shall pray for Zion still,
While life or breath remains;
There my best friends, my kindred dwell,
There God my Savior reigns.