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 Zion'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, declare
Their numerous sins forgiven,

5 In such society as this
My weary soul would rest!
The man that dwells where Jesus is,
Must be for ever bless'd.