O Lord, I have loved the fair beauty Of the house Thou hast chosen for Thee, The courts where Thy gladness rejoiceth, And where Thou delightest to be. For I love to be made the fair dwelling Where God in His grace may abide; I would cast forth whatever may grieve Thee, And welcome none other beside. Oh blessed the grace that has made me The home of the gladness of God, The dwelling wherein Thou delightest, The house Thou hast bought with Thy blood. ’Tis there that Thy joy overfloweth, I feel it, I take of it there; By the work that Thou workest within me, The temple is holy and fair. 119 In the secret of that inner chamber, Is Thy settle of heavenly rest; The stillness of thoughts that adore Thee, The shrine that Thou lovest the best. The temple where Christ hath His dwelling, The soul He hath ransomed and shriven— The temple where I have my dwelling, Is Christ in the glory of Heaven. |