1 Lord! 'tis a pleasant thing, to stand
In gardens planted by thy hand.
Let me within thy courts be seen,
Like a young cedar, fresh and green.

2 There grow thy saints in faith and love,
Blest with thine influence from above:
Not Lebanon, with all its trees,
Yields such a comely sight as these.

3 The plants of grace shall ever live;
Nature decays, but grace must thrive;
Time, that doth all things else impair,
Shall make them flourish strong and fair.

4 Laden with fruits of age, they show,
The Lord is holy, just, and true.
None, that attend his gates shall find
A God unfaithful or unkind.