Lord, 'tis a pleasant thing to stand

In gardens planted by thine hand;

Let me within thy courts be seen,

Like a young cedar, fresh and green.

There grow thy saints in faith and love,

Blest with thine influence from above;

Not Lebanon with all its trees

Yields such a comely sight as these.

The plants of grace shall ever live;

(Nature decays, but grace must thrive;)

Time, that doth all things else impair,

Still makes them flourish strong and fair.

Laden with fruits of age, they show

The Lord is holy, just, and true;

None that attend his gates shall find

A God unfaithful or unkind.