'Bove all our cities does bright Sion prove

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.
3 O Queen of nations! O exalted theme!
What tongue can justly celebrate thy fame?
4 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;
5 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.
6 Who o'er th' extended world will not aver,
Who will not boast, that he belongs to her?
7 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.

Source: New Version of the Psalms of David #LXXXVII