The festal morn, my God, is come

Verse 1

The festal morn, my God, is come That calls me to Thy hallowed dome, Thy presence to adore; My feet the summons shall attend, With willing steps Thy courts ascend, And tread the sacred floor.

Verse 2

And now we greet with raptured eyes, Fair Zion towering to the skies; Within her gates we stand: City of peace! how sweet the sight When all thy sons in love unite, A holy, happy band.

Verse 3

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.

Verse 4

May peace forever dwell with thee, O Salem—thus with bended knee, To Jacob’s God we pray; How blest who calls himself thy friend, Success his labors shall attend, And safety guard his way.

Verse 5

O may’st thou, free from hostile fear, Never the voice of tumult hear, Nor wasting war deplore; May Plenty nigh thee take her stand, And in thy courts with lavish hand, Distribute all her store.

Verse 6

Seat of my friends and brethren, hail! Ne’er shall my tongue, O Zion, fail To bless thy loved abode; Ne’er cease the zeal that in me glows To seek thy good, whose walls enclose The mansion of my God.