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 No strife shall vex Messiah’s reign,

Or mar the peaceful years,

To plowshares men shall beat their swords,

To pruning-hooks their spears.

5 No longer hosts encountering hosts,

Their millions slain deplore;

They hang the trumpet in the hall,

And study war no more.

6 Come, then—O come from every land,

To worship at his shrine;

And, walking in the light of God,

With holy beauties shine.