2 Here let thy holy days be kept; And be this place to worship given, Like that bright spot where Jacob slept, The house of God, the gate of heaven. 3 Here may thine honor dwell; and here, As incense, let thy children's prayer, From contrite hearts and lips sincere, Rise on the still and holy air. 4 Here be thy praise devoutly sung; Here let thy truth beam forth to save, As when, of old, thy spirit hung, On wings of light, o'er Jordan's wave. 5 And when the lips, that with thy name Are vocal now, to dust shall turn, On others may devotion's flame Be kindled here, and purely burn! 699. 7s. M. E. H. Chapin. The Same. 1 Father, lo! we consecrate Unto thee this house and shrine, Oh! may Jesus visit here, As he did in Palestine. Here may blind eyes see his light, Deaf ears hear his accents sweet, And we, like those groups of old, Sit and linger at his feet. 2 And to learn of faith and love, Strong in sorrow, pain and loss, May we come and find them here, In the garden, on the cross. Like the spices that enfold Him we love in rich perfume, May our thoughts embalm him here, While he slumbers in the tomb. 3 When we watch by shrouded hopes, Weeping at death's marble door, May the angels meet us here-- Lo! your Christ has gone before! And while we stand "looking up," In our faith and wonder lost, Here send down thy Spirit's power, Like the tongues of Pentecost. 700. L. M. Sir J. E. Smith. God's Temple in the Heart. 1 Who shall a temple build for him, Who fills the heaven of heavens alone? Who shall exalt his glorious name, Fixed in his everlasting throne? 2 Yet many a lowly fane shall rise, Which God himself will not disdain: He will accept the sacrifice; Nor shall the offering e'er be vain. 3 No gorgeous dome, nor boastful vow, Can e'er find favor in his sight: The humble votary, meek and low,-- The holy soul, are his delight. 4 On these his grace and mercy rest, Nor from their shrines will he depart: His temple is the righteous breast; His altar is the pious heart. 701. H. M. O. A. Skinner. Dedication Hymn. 1 Thou Fount of love and grace, Whose throne is fixed on high, Unveil thy smiling face, And to our souls draw nigh; And let our prayers and praise arise, Like grateful incense to the skies. 2 This house to thee we give-- Thine may it ever be-- Here bid the sinner live, Here set the captive free, Here let thy word its beams display And safely guide to endless day.