Blest are the sons of peace,
Whose hearts and hopes are one,
Whose kind designs to serve and please
Through all their actions run.
Thus on the heav’nly hills
The saints are bless’d above,
Where joy, like morning dew, distills,
And all the air is love.
Blest is the pious house
Where zeal and friendship meet;
Their songs of praise, their mingled vows,
Make their communion sweet.