Within some grand and mighty fane?
By the work of our hands we will raise the pile,
We will strew with flowers the vaulted aisle,
We will toss the silver censers around,
And a thousand voices of sweetest sound
Shall breathe at once; but it may not be—
Such a kingdom accepted is not by Thee!
Thy kingdom come! in our cottage homes
We will give thee our hearts, by our kindred’s tombs,
By the rippling streams, in the ancient woods,