CXVIII. The Glory of the Church in the latter Day.

O Zion, tune thy Voice,
And raise thy Hands on high;
Tell all the Earth thy Joys,
And boast Salvation nigh.
Chearful 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 Form shall view,
With Lustre new
Divinely crown'd.

In Honour to his Name
Reflect that sacred Light;
And loud that Grace proclaim,
Which makes thy Darkness bright:
Persue his Praise,
Till sov'reign 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.