1 The joyful morn, my God, is come
That calls me to thy honored dome
Thy presence to adore:
My feet the summons shall attend,
With willing steps thy courts ascend,
And tread the hallowed floor.
2 Hither from Judah's utmost end,
The Heaven protected tribes ascend;
Their offerings hither bring:
Here eager to attest their joy,
In hymns of praise their tongues employ
And hail th'immortal king.
3 Be Peace implored by each on Thee,
O Sion, while with bended knee
To Jacob's God we pray:
How blessed who calls himself thy friend!
Success his labor shall attend,
And safety guard his way.
4 O may'st thou, free from hostile fear,
Nor the loud voice of tumult hear,
Nor war's wild waste deplore;
May plenty nigh thee take her stand,
And in thy courts with lavish hand,
Distribute all her store.
5 Seat of my friends and brethren, hail,
How can my tongue, O Sion, fail
To bless thy loved abode?
How cease the zeal that in me glows,
Thy good to seek, whose walls enclose
The mansions of my God?
A New Selection of Hymns, 1812