Lyrics
1. Behold! the mountain of the Lord
In latter days shall rise
On mountain tops above the hills,
And draw the wondering eyes.
2. To this the joyful nations round,
All tribes and tongues, shall flow;
Up to the hill of God, they’ll say,
And to His house we’ll go.
3. The beam that shines from Zion hill
Shall lighten every land;
The King Who reigns in Salem’s towers
Shall all the world command.
4. Among the nations He shall judge;
His judgments truth shall guide;
His scepter shall protect the just,
And quell the sinner’s pride.
5. No strife shall vex Messiah’s reign
Or mar the peaceful years;
To plowshares soon
they beat their swords
To pruning hooks their spears.
6. No longer host encount'ring host,
Shall crowds of slain deplore;
They'll hang the trumpet in the hall,
And study war no more.
7. No longer hosts encountering hosts,
Their millions slain deplore;
They hang the trumpets in the hall
And study war no more.
8. Come then, O house of Jacob, come
To worship at His shrine;
And, walking in the light of God,
With holy beauties shine.
9. **alt verses
10. Behold! the mountain of the Lord,
In latter days shall rise
Above the mountains and the hills,
And draw the wond'ring eyes.
11. To this the joyful nations round,,
All tribes and tongues shall flow;
Up to the hill of God, they'll say,
And to his house we'll go!
12. To this the joyful nations round,
All tribes and tongues, shall flow;
Up to the hill of God, they say,
And to his courts we'll go.
13. The beam that shines from Zion hill
Illume shall ev'ry land!
The King who reigns in Salem's tow'rs
Shall all the world command.
14. The beams that shine on Zion's hill
Shall lighten ev'ry land;
The King who reigns in Zion's tow'rs,
Shall all the world command.
15. No strife shall rage, nor hostile feuds
disturb those peaceful years;
To ploughshares men
shall beat their swords,
to pruning-hooks their spears.
16. No longer hosts encount’ring hosts
shall crowds of slain deplore:
They hang the trumpet in the hall,
and study war no more.
17. No longer hosts encount'ring hosts,
Their millions slain deplore;
They hang the trumpet in the hall.
And study war no more.
18. Come then—Oh, come from ev'ry land.
To worship at his shrine:
And walking in the light of God,
With holy beauties shine.