Great God, attend, while Zion sings
The joy that from Thy presence springs;
To spend one day with Thee on earth
Exceeds a thousand days of mirth.

Might I enjoy the meanest place
Within Thy house, O God of grace,
Not tents of ease, nor thrones of pow'r,
Should tempt my feet to leave Thy door.

God is our sun, He makes our day;
God is our shield, He guards our way
From all th' assaults of hell and sin —
From foes without, from foes within.

All needful grace will God bestow,
And crown that grace with glory too;
He gives us all things, and withholds
No real good from upright souls.

O God, our King, whose sov'reign sway
The glor'ous hosts of heav'n obey;
And devils at Thy presence flee;
Blest is the man that trusts in Thee.