And the souls of all created, and the souls of all to be,
Are partakers of redemption by that death on Calvary,
That divine self-abnegation of the holy Son of man—
Thought sublime in its expansion, theme beyond our finite scan.
Oh, the human heart a temple for the Saviour's love may be
In all nations, in all climates, on the land or on the sea:
Sect or color bars not entrance; only Sin her watch may set,
Keeping Him without the portals till with dew his locks are wet;
But He ceases not from calling, "Garnish and make clean for me;
Drive away the money-changers, in their place let angels be."