Whom kings adored in songs sublime,
And prophets praised with glowing tongue:
2 Not now on Zion’s height alone
Thy favored worshippers may dwell;
Nor where, at sultry noon, Thy Son
Sat weary, by the Patriarch’s well.
3 From every place below the skies,
The grateful song, the fervent prayer,—
The incense of the heart,—may rise
To heaven, and find acceptance there.