1. O ye mountains high, where the clear blue sky Arches over the vales of the free, Where the pure breezes blow and the clear streamlets flow, How I’ve longed to your bosom to flee! O Zion! dear Zion! land of the free, Now my own mountain home, unto thee I have come All my fond hopes are centered in thee.
2. Though the great and the wise all thy beauties despise, To the humble and pure thou art dear; Though the haughty may smile and the wicked revile, Yet we love thy glad tidings to hear. O Zion! dear Zion! home of the free, Though thou wert forced to fly to thy chambers on high, Yet we’ll share joy and sorrow with thee.