Thy light to guide—thy power to save.
Proscribed from consecrated ground,
Forbid thy sacred courts to tread,
We know, where contrite hearts are found,
Thy cleansing grace is largely shed.
The church may wander in the wild,
But God still feeds his pilgrim child.
Our canopy the vaulted skies,
Our unction the refreshing dew;
The circling rocks that round us rise,