1.Come, we that love the Lord, And let our joys be known;
Join in a song with sweet accord, And thus surround the throne.
We're marching to Zion, Beautiful, beautiful Zion;
We're marching upward to Zion, The beautiful city of God.
2.Let those refuse to sing, Who never knew our God;
But children of the heav'nly King, May speak their joys abroad.
3.The hill of Zion yields, A thousand sacred sweets
Before we reach the heav'nly fields, Or walk the golden streets.
4.Then let our songs abound, And every tear be dry;
We're marching through Immanuel's ground,
To fairer worlds on high.
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