Words: Un­known au­thor, 12th Cen­tu­ry (Iucun­da­re, plebs fi­del­is); trans­lat­ed from La­tin to Eng­lish by , 1850, alt.

Music: Cobb, (1838-1904).

If you know when the mu­sic was writ­ten, or where to get a pic­ture of Ro­bert Camp­bell or Ge­rard Cobb


Come, pure hearts, in sweetest measure,
Sing of those who spread the treasure
In the holy Gospels shrined;
Blessèd tidings of salvation,
Peace on earth their proclamation,
Love from God to lost mankind.

See the rivers four that gladden,
With their streams, the better Eden
Planted by our Lord most dear;
Christ the Fountain, these the waters;
Drink, O Zion’s sons and daughters,
Drink, and find salvation here.

Here our souls, by Jesus sated,
More and more shall be translated
Earth’s temptations far above;
Freed from sin’s abhorred dominion,
Soaring on an angel pinion,
They shall reach the Source of love.

Then shall thanks and praise ascending
For Thy mercies without ending
Rise to Thee, O Savior blest,
With Thy gracious aid defend us,
Let Thy guiding light attend us,
Bring us to Thy place of rest.

O that we, thy truth confessing,
And Thy holy Word possessing,
Jesus, may Thy love adore;
Unto Thee our voices raising,
Thee with all Thy ransomed praising,
Ever and forevermore.