'Bove all our cities does bright Sion prove

Verse 1

'Bove all our cities does bright Sion prove The dearest object of almighty love; Sion, high seated on a lofty hill, Where blest Jehovah takes delight to dwell.

Verse 2

O Queen of nations! O exalted theme! What tongue can justly celebrate thy fame?

Verse 3

Will Babylon to mate thy splendor dare? With thee will Rahab's haughty town compare? Soon shall their vain, their empty boasts be shewn; They soon shall thy superior glories own; Nor, proud Philistia, thou, nor lofty Tyre, Nor Ethiopians towns to fame aspire;

Verse 4

With Sions city ye contest in vain; Long 'bove you all triumphant she shall reign; By God himself are her foundations laid, And he'll uphold her with his mighty aid.

Verse 5

Who o'er th' extended world will not aver, Who will not boast, that he belongs to her?

Verse 6

Thy wond'rous beauties shall attune the lyre; Thy glories shall the raptur'd voice inspire; If aught befitting thee can fill my tongue, Thee will I make my constant, only song; If e'er my soul conceives a lofty lay, Thy fame, dear city, shall my verse display.