Zion, on the Holy Hills

Zion

on the ho­ly hills

God

thy mak­er

loves thee well;

All thy courts His pre­sence fills

He de­lights in thee to dwell.

Wondrous shall Thy glo­ry be

City blest of God

the Lord;

Nations shall be born in thee

Unto life from death re­stored.

When the Lord the names shall write

Of thy sons

a count­less throng

God most high will thee re­quite

He Him­self will make thee strong.

Then in song and joy­ful mirth

Shall thy ran­somed sons agree

Singing forth through­out the earth

All my fount­ains are in thee.