Behold a lovely vine, Here in this desert ground; The blossoms shoot and promise fruit, And tender grapes are found. Its circling branches rise, And shade the neighb'ring lands; With lovely charms she spreads her arms, With clusters in her hands. This city can't be hid. It's built upon a hill; The dazzling light it shines so bright, It doth the valleys fill. Ye trees which lofty stand, And stars with sparkling light; Ye Christians hear, both far and near, 'Tis joy to see the sight. Shall feeble nature sing, And man not join the lays? O may their throats be swell'd with notes, And fill'd with songs of praise. Glory to God on high, For His redeeming grace; The blessed Dove came from above, To save our ruined race.