The men of grace have found,
Glory begun below;
Celestial fruits on earthly ground,
From faith and hope may grow.

The hill of Zion yields,
A thousand sacred sweets,
Before we reach the heav’nly fields,
Or walk the golden streets.

Then let our songs abound,
And ev’ry tear be dry;
We’re marching through Immanuel’s ground,
To fairer worlds on high.

Youtube 1,2,3