585
11s.
The house of prayer.
How honored, how dear, is that sacred abode,
Where Christians draw near to their Father and God:
’Mid worldly commotion my wearied soul faints
For the house of devotion, the home of thy saints.
2 Thou hearer of prayer, O still grant me a place
Where Christians repair to the courts of thy grace,
More blest beyond measure one day so employed,
Than years of vain pleasure by worldlings enjoyed.
3 Me more would it please keeping post at thy gate,
Than lying at ease in the chambers of state;
The meanest condition outshines with thy smiles,
The pomp of ambition, the world with its wiles.
4 The Lord is a Sun, and the Lord is a Shield:
What grace has begun, will with glory be sealed;
He hears the distresséd, he succors the just,
And they shall be blesséd who make him their trust.
Conder.