Come, we that love the Lord

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

May speak their joys abroad.

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.

Then let our songs abound,

And every tear be dry;

We're marching through Emmanuel's ground

To fairer worlds on high.