Classic Poem

You , who the Lord adore,
And at His altar wait,
Who keep your watch before
The threshold of His gate,
His praises sing
By silent night,
Till cheerful light
In th' orient spring.

Your hands devoutly raise
To His divine recess;
The world's Creator praise,
And thus the people bless;
The God of love,
From Sion's tow'rs,
To you and yours
Propitious prove.