1 I love Thy Zion, Lord!
The house of Thine abode;
The Church our blest Redeemer saved
By Thine own precious blood.

2 I love Thy Church, O God!
Her walls before Thee stand,
Dear as the apple of Thine eye,
And graven on Thy hand.

3 Should I with scoffers join
Her alters to abuse?
No! better far my tongue were dumb,
My hand its skill should lose.

4 O ne'er may I forget
Her welfare nor her woe;
Lest ev'ry joy my heart forsake,
And ev'ry grief o'erflow.

5 For her my tears shall fall;
For her my prayers ascend;
To her my cares and toils be given,
Till toils and cares shall end.

6 Beyond my highest joy
I prize her heavenly ways,
Her sweet communion, solemn vows,
Her hymns of love and praise.