Behold! the mountain of the Lord

in latter days shall rise

On mountain tops above the hills,

and draw the wond’ring eyes.

To this the joyful nations round,

all tribes and tongues shall flow;

Up to the hill of God, they’ll say,

and to his house we’ll go.

The beam that shines from Sion hill

shall lighten ev’ry land;

The King who reigns in Salem’s tow’rs

shall all the world command.

Among the nations he shall judge;

his judgments truth shall guide;

His sceptre shall protect the just,

and quell the sinner’s pride.

No strife shall rage, nor hostile feuds

disturb those peaceful years;

To ploughshares men shall beat their swords,

to pruning-hooks their spears.

No longer hosts encount’ring hosts

shall crowds of slain deplore:

They hang the trumpet in the hall,

and study war no more.

Come then, O house of Jacob! come

to worship at his Shrine;

And, walking in the light of God,

with holy beauties shine,