1 Come, we that love the Lord,
And let our joys be known;
Join in a song with sweet accord,
And thus surround the throne.
Let those refuse to sing
That never knew our God;
But children of the heavenly King
Must speak their joys abroad.

2 The men of grace have found
Glory begun below;
Celestial fruits on earthly ground
From faith and hope may grow.
The hill of Zion yields
A thousand sacred sweets,
Before we reach the heavenly fields
Or walk the golden streets.

3 There shall we see his face,
And never, never sin;
There from the rivers of his grace
Drink endless pleasures in.
Then let our songs abound,
And every tear be dry;
We're marching through Immanuel's ground
To fairer worlds on high.