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.
We’re marching to Zion,
beautiful, beautiful Zion;
We’re marching upward to Zion;
the beautiful city of God
2 Let those refuse to sing
who never knew our God;
but children of the heav’nly King
may speak their joys abroad.
3 The hill of Zion yields
a thousand sacred sweets
before we reach the heav’nly fields,
or walk the golden streets.
4 There we shall see his face,
And never, never sin;
There, from the rivers of his grace,
Drink endless pleasures in:
5 Then let our songs abound,
and ev’ry tear be dry;
we’re marching through Emmanuel’s ground
to fairer worlds on high.