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Church Dedication. yi$
Here, gracious God, do Thou For evermore draw nigh ; Accept each faithful vow, And mark each suppliant sigh ; In copious shower On all who pray Each holy day Thy blessings pour !
Here may we gain from Heaven The grace which we implore ; And may that grace, once given, Be with us evermore, Until that day When all the blest To endless rest Are call'd away !
John Chandler. 1837. |
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cccix.
The lovely form of God's own Church,
It riseth in all lands ; On mountain sides, in wooded vales,
And by the desert sands.
There is it, with its solemn aisles,
A heavenly, holy thing ; And round its walls lie Christian dead,
Blessedly slumbering.
Though sects and factions rend the world,
Peace is its heritage ; Unchanged, though empires by it pass,
The same from age to age. |
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