HYMN II—ON HEAVEN.
Hail sacred Salem! plac'd on high,
Seat of the mighty King!
What thought can grasp thy boundless bliss,
What tongue thy glories sing?
Thy crystal tow'rs and palaces
Magnificently rise,
And dart their beaut'ous lustre round
The empyrean skies.
The voice of triumph in thy streets
And acclamations found,
Gay banquets in thy splendid courts
And purest joys abound.
Bright smiles on ev'ry face appear,
Rapture in ev'ry eye;
From ev'ry mouth glad anthems flow,
And charming harmony.
Illustrious day for ever there,
Streams from the face divine;
No pale-fac'd moon e'er glimmers forth,
Nor stars nor sun decline.
No scorching heats, no piercing colds,
The changing seasons bring;
But o'er the fields mild breezes there
Breathe an eternal spring.
The flow'rs with lasting beauty shine,
And deck the smiling ground,
While flowing streams of pleasures all
The happy plains surround.