227.  The Place of Prayer

1
O thou to whom, in ancient time,
The lyre of Hebrew bards was strung,
Whom kings adored in song sublime,
And prophets praised with glowing tongue.

2
Not now on Zion’s height alone,
The favored worshiper may dwell,
Nor where at sultry noon, thy Son
Sat weary by the patriarch’s well.

3
From every place below the skies,
The grateful song, the fervent prayer,
The incense of the heart, may rise
To heav’n and find acceptance there.

4
O thou to whom, in ancient time,
The holy prophet’s harp was strung,
To thee, at last, in ev’ry clime,
Shall praise arise and songs be sung.