O Zion, Tune Thy Voice

O Zi­on

tune thy voice

And raise thy hands on high;

Tell all the earth thy joys

And boast sal­va­tion nigh;

Cheerful in God

arise and shine

While rays div­ine stream all abroad.

He gilds thy mourn­ing face

With beams that ca­nnot fade;

His all-re­splen­dent grace

He pours around thy head;

The na­tions round thy forms shall view

With lus­ter new di­vin­ely crowned.

In hon­or to His name

Reflect that sac­red light;

And loud that grace pro­claim

Which makes thy dark­ness bright;

Pursue His praise till sov­er­eign love

In worlds above

the glo­ry raise.

There on His ho­ly hill

A bright­er sun shall rise

And with His ra­di­ance fill

Those fair­er

pur­er skies;

While round His throne ten thou­sand stars

In nob­ler spheres His in­flu­ence own.