1 Not to the terrors of the Lord, The tempest, fire, and smoke, Not to the thunder of that word Which God on Sinai spoke;
2 But we are come to Sion's hill, The city of our God, Where milder words declare his will And spread his love abroad.
3 Behold th' innumerable host Of angels cloth'd in light! Behold the spirits of the just Whose faith is turn'd to sight!
4 Behold the bless'd assembly there, Whose names are writ in heaven; And God the judge of all declares Their vilest sins forgiven.
5 The saints on earth and all the dead But one communion make; All join in Christ their living head, And of his grace partake.
6 In such society as this My weary soul would rest: The man that dwells where Jesus is, Must be for ever blest.