Songs‎ > ‎1 - 99‎ > ‎

46t The Hill of Zion

The hill of Zion yields
A thousand sacred sweets,
Before we reach the heav’nly fields,
Or walk the golden streets.

The sorrows of the mind,
Be banished from this place;
Religion never was designed,
To make our pleasures less.

Then let our songs abound,
And ev’ry tear be dry;
We’re marching through Immanuel’s ground
To fairer worlds on high.

Listen Download