Come, We Who Love the Lord

Come, we who love the Lord,

And let our joys be known;

Join in a song of sweet acccord,

And thus surrond the throne.

Let those refuse to sing

Who never knew our god;

But children of the heav'nly King

Should speak thier 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 heav'nly fields,

Or walk the golden streets.

Then let our songs abound

And every tear be dry;

We're marching thro' Emanuael's ground

To fairer worlds on high.

Amen