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 neigh’bring 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 pilgrims hear, both far and near,
‘Tis joy to see the sight.

Recordings 1, 2, 3