Blest are the sons of peace,
Whose hearts and hopes are one,
Whose kind designs to serve and please
Through all their actions run.
Blest is the pious house
Where zeal and friendship meet;
Their songs of praise, their mingled vows,
Make their communion sweet.
Thus when on Aaron’s head
They poured the rich perfume,
The oil through all his raiment spread,
And pleasure filled the room.
Thus on the heavenly hills
The saints are blest above,
Where joy, like morning dew, distils,
And all the air is love.