Classic Poem

Zion's the city where I dwell,
Surrounded by the hosts of hell;
But glory soon will be my home,
Where sin and hell can never come.

All then among the saints below,
Where Jesus deigns his face to show,
Let me be favour'd with a place,
Constant in all the means of grace.

Oh lovely place, where first my heart
Was taught for baneful sin to smart!
Where first my eyes were brought to see
That Jesus liv'd and dy'd for me!

Where would I dwell, and learn to sing
The grace and love of Zion's King,
Shall I ascend the heav'nly skies,
And sing his praises as I rise—

Till in the palace where he reigns
I learn, in sweet immortal strains,
The wonders of that love to tell
That sav'd my soul from sin and hell!