How Pleasant, How Divinely Fair

1 How pleasant, how divinely fair,

O Lord of Hosts, Thy dwellings are!

With long desire my spirit faints,

To meet the assemblies of Thy saints. 

2 Blest are the saints who sit on high,

Around the throne of Majesty;

Thy brightest glories shine above,

And all their work is praise and love.

3 Blest are the souls that find a place,

Within the temple of Thy grace;

There they behold Thy gentler rays,

And seek Thy face, and learn Thy praise.

4 Blest are the men whose hearts are set,

To find the way to Zion’s gate;

God is their strength, and through the road,

They lean upon their helper, God.