1  Oh, how lovable, how precious

    Are Thy local churches, Lord!

    My soul longeth, even fainteth

    For the courts of Thine abode;

    'Tis my heart's deep thirst and longing

    And my spirit deeply sighs;

    Fellowship among the churches —

    For this my whole being cries.

 2  Blessed is the man whose heart, to

    Zion, is an open way;

    He's the one whose strength is in Thee;

    He will praise Thee all the day.

    In communion with the churches,

    Trusting Thee, Thy praise he sings;

    Passing through the weeping valley,

    It becomes a place of springs.

 3  One day spent among Thy churches,

    Better than a thousand is!

    Even to the lowest member,

    Sun and shield Jehovah is.

    Grace and glory, every good thing,

    On us now He doth outpour;

    Blessed is that man who dwelleth

    In the churches evermore.