2 I love her gates, I love the road: The church adorn'd with grace Stands like a palace built for God, To shew his milder face.
3 Up to her courts with joys unknown The holy tribes repair; The Son of David holds his throne, And sits in judgment there.
4 He hears our praises and complaints; And while his awful voice Divides the sinners from the saints, We tremble and rejoice.
5 Peace be within this sacred place, And joy a constant guest! With holy gifts, and heavenly grace Be her attendants blest!
6 My soul shall pray for Zion still, While life or breath remains; There my best friends, my kindred dwell, There God my Saviour reigns.