Happy the church, thou sacred place,

The seat of thy Creator's grace;

Thine holy courts are his abode,

Thou earthly palace of our God!

Thy walls are strength, and at thy gates

A guard of heav'nly warriors waits;

Nor shall thy deep foundations move,

Fixed on his counsels and his love.

Thy foes in vain designs engage,

Against his throne in vain they rage;

Like rising waves, with angry roar,

That dash and die upon the shore.

Then let our souls in Zion dwell,

Nor fear the wrath of Rome and hell;

His arms embrace this happy ground,

Like brazen bulwarks built around.

God is our shield, and God our sun;

Swift as the fleeting moments run,

On us he sheds new beams of grace,

And we reflect his brightest praise.