A Sabbath in the Sick Chamber

Verse 1

Thousands, O Lord of Hosts! this day, Around Thine altar meet; And tens of thousands throng to pay Their homage at Thy feet.

Verse 2

They see Thy power and glory there, As I have seen them too; They read, they hear, they join in prayer, As I was wont to do.

Verse 3

They sing Thy deeds, as I have sung In sweet and solemn lays; Were I among them, my glad tongue Might learn new themes of praise.

Verse 4

For Thou art in their midst to teach When on Thy name they call, And Thou hast blessings, Lord, for each,-- Hast blessings, Lord, for all.

Verse 5

I, of such fellowship bereft, In spirit turn to Thee; Oh! hast not Thou a blessing left, A blessing, Lord, for me?

Verse 6

The dew lies thick on all the ground; Shall my poor fleece be dry? The manna rains from heaven around; Shall I of hunger die?

Verse 7

Behold Thy prisoner;--loose my bands, If 'tis Thy gracious will: If not,--contented in Thy hands, Behold Thy prisoner still!

Verse 8

I may not to Thy courts repair, Yet here Thou surely art; Lord, consecrate an house of prayer In my surrender'd heart.

Verse 9

To faith reveal the things unseen, To hope the joys untold; Let love, without a veil between, Thy glory now behold.

Verse 10

Oh! make Thy face on me to shine, That doubt and fear may cease; Lift up Thy countenance benign On me,--and give me peace.