Come, we who love the Lord,
And let our joys be known;
Join in a song with sweet accord,
And thus surround the throne.

The sorrows of the mind,
Be banish’d from this place;
Religion never was design’d
To make our pleasures less.

Let those refuse to sing
Who never knew our God;
But children of the heav’nly King
May speak their joys abroad.

Recordings none