698. L. M. Pierpont.
The Same.
1O, bow thine ear, Eternal One!
On thee our heart adoring calls;
To thee the followers of thy Son
Have raised and now devote these walls.
2Here let thy holy days be kept;
And be this place to worship given,
Like that bright spot where Jacob slept,
The house of God, the gate of heaven.
3Here may thine honor dwell; and here,
As incense, let thy children's prayer,
From contrite hearts and lips sincere,
Rise on the still and holy air.
4Here be thy praise devoutly sung;
Here let thy truth beam forth to save,
As when, of old, thy spirit hung,
On wings of light, o'er Jordan's wave.
5And when the lips, that with thy name
Are vocal now, to dust shall turn,
On others may devotion's flame
Be kindled here, and purely burn!