Classic Poem

Here in a corner of Thy house,
Rock-ribbed and built since time began,
And building yet with art divine
Co-working with the art of man,
Our hands, O God, have built a shrine,
Our hearts have vowed to make it Thine.

Here may we come with eager feet,
To sing Thy love and learn Thy law,
And quench our inmost being's thirst
At those deep springs of sacred awe,
Which underneath our being run,
From sources higher than the sun.

Here may the vastness of Thy house
More clearly to our minds appear;
Its mystery grand and music sweet
Grow ever to our hearts more dear;
And Thy dear face, the more we yearn,
Through every glowing window burn.

Oh, here may every thought be pure,
And every passion self-controlled;
Here all our words be kind and true,
And every purpose high and bold:
So shall Thy presence fill the shrine,
And all our hearts and lives be Thine.