PSAL. LXXXVII by John Milton Lyrics

1          AMONG the holy Mountains high
        Is his foundation fast,
         There Seated in his Sanctuary,
        His Temple there is plac't.

2          Sions fair Gates the Lord loves more
        Then all the dwellings faire
        Of Jacobs Land, though there be store,
        And all within his care.

3          City of God, most glorious things
         Of thee abroad are spoke;

4          I mention Egypt, where proud Kings
         Did our forefathers yoke,
         I mention Babel to my friends,
         Philistia full of scorn,
         And Tyre with Ethiops utmost ends,
         Lo this man there was born:

5          But twise that praise shall in our ear
         Be said of Sion last
         This and this man was born in her,
        High God shall fix her fast.
6          The Lord shall write it in a Scrowle
         That ne're shall be out-worn
         When he the Nations doth enrowle
         That this man there was born.

7          Both they who sing, and they who dance
         With sacred Songs are there,
         In thee fresh brooks, and soft streams glance
         And all my fountains clear.