1. We’ll sing the songs of Zion, Though now in distant lands, Our harps shall not be lying Untouched by skillful hands. The winds in flitting breezes Will sweep the sounding string, And tune its lofty praises, If Saints neglect to sing.
2. O Zion! long predicted By Seers and Saints of old; The blessings they depicted And beauties we behold; Thy walls are sure salvation, And all thy gates are praise, A peaceful habitation, In these the latter days.
3. When Zion reached the mountains, They gave their golden store, And all the limpid fountains Did healing virtues pour. Where reigned but gloomy sadness, And earth seemed in repose, Resounds the song of gladness, And blossoms forth the rose.
4. From Zion’s favored valley, Shines gospel light and grace, And millions soon will rally Around her gathering place, Where every law of heaven, Whose councils do design To save us, will be given Within her sacred shrine.