Come, we that love the Lord, And let our joys be known, Join in a song with sweet accord, Join in a song with sweet accord, And thus surround the throne, And thus surround the throne. We're marching to Zion, Beautiful, beautiful Zion; We're marching upward to Zion The beautiful city of God. Let those refuse to sing Who never new our God; But children of the heav'nly King, But children of the heav'nly King, May speak their joy abroad, May speak their joy abroad. We're marching to Zion, Beautiful, beautiful Zion; We're marching upward to Zion The beautiful city of God. The hill of Zion yields A thousnad sacred sweets Before we reach the heav'nly fields, Before we reach the heav'nly fields, Or walk the golden streets, Or walk the golden streets. We're marching to Zion, Beautiful, beautiful Zion; We're marching upward to Zion The beautiful city of God. Then let our songs abound, And ev'ry tear be dry; We're marching through Immanuel's ground, We're marching through Immanuel's ground, To fairer worlds on high, To fairer worlds on high. We're marching to Zion, Beautiful, beautiful Zion; We're marching upward to Zion The beautiful city of God.
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