Hallow'd be this humble spot,

Like the place of Jacob's bed;

God was there, he knew it not,

Till heaven open'd o'er his head.

Angels travell'd through his dream,

Time unveil'd eternity;

Then came forth a voice from Him,

Whom no living eye can see.

"I am God,--thy father's God,

I will bless thee and increase,

Give the land which thou hast trod,

To thy seed, and send them peace."

Not in visions of the night,

God of Jacob! on our way,

But in noon of Gospel light,

Here Thy power and grace display.

Here, though prayer, since time begun,

Never have been made before,

Now, be prayer from sire to son,

Made till time shall be no more.

Oft on embassies of love,

Be descending angels sent,

And returning spread above

Joy o'er sinners that repent.

Here the children's angels see

Little ones to Jesus brought,

In Thy nurture train'd for Thee,

By Thine admonition taught.

While Thy ministers declare

All the counsel of Thy will,

Lord, Thy people's hearts prepare

Every precept to fulfil.

Here, when all that live are dead,

And the unborn supply their place,

Age by age, may souls be led,

In this house, to seek Thy face.