To Zion we go, the seat of our King,

To Zion we go, the seat of our King,
And yet while below we cannot but sing;
Though few here esteem us, the God we adore
Has died to redeem us! what could he do more?

What Jesus has done to save us from hell;
What conquests he won, when he himself fell;
The depths of his sorrow; the heights of his love;
Can never be known till we sing them above.