HYMN II—ON HEAVEN.

Hail sacred Salem! plac'd on high, Seat of the mighty King! What thought can grasp thy boundless bliss, What tongue thy glories sing? Thy crystal tow'rs and palaces Magnificently rise, And dart their beaut'ous lustre round The empyrean skies. The voice of triumph in thy streets And acclamations found, Gay banquets in thy splendid courts And purest joys abound. Bright smiles on ev'ry face appear, Rapture in ev'ry eye; From ev'ry mouth glad anthems flow, And charming harmony. Illustrious day for ever there, Streams from the face divine; No pale-fac'd moon e'er glimmers forth, Nor stars nor sun decline. No scorching heats, no piercing colds, The changing seasons bring; But o'er the fields mild breezes there Breathe an eternal spring. The flow'rs with lasting beauty shine, And deck the smiling ground, While flowing streams of pleasures all The happy plains surround.