Not to the Terrors of the Lord

Not to the ter­rors of the Lord

The tem­pest

fire

and smoke;

Not to the thun­der of that word

Which God on Si­nai spoke;

But we are come to Si­on’s hill

The ci­ty of our God

Where mild­er words de­clare His will

And spread His love abroad.

Behold th’in­nu­mer­able host

Of an­gels clothed in light!

Behold the spir­its of the just

Whose faith is turned to sight!

Behold the blest as­sem­bly there

Whose names are writ in Heav’n!

And God

the Judge of all

de­clares

Their vil­est sins for­giv’n.

The saints on earth

and all the dead

But one com­mun­ion make;

All join in Christ their liv­ing Head

And of His grace par­take.

In such so­ci­ety as this

My wea­ry soul would rest:

The man that dwells where Je­sus is

Must be for­ev­er blest.