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.

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.

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.