1 Come, ye who love the Lord!
And let your joys be known;
Join in a song with sweet accord,
And thus surround His throne.

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

3 The sons of God have found
That heaven begins below:
Celestial fruits, on earthly ground,
From faith and hope may grow.

4 Then let our sorrows cease,
And every tear be dry;
We're travelling through the paths of peace
To fairer worlds on high.