How glorious, Lord, thy temple? what desires

Verse 1

How glorious, Lord, thy temple? what desires Fill my whole soul, O God? what rapture fires? How asks my glowing heart the glad employ? My limbs, my very bones, demand the joy.

Verse 2

Nigh thee, secure, her nest the sparrow builds; Thy sacred altar to the swallow yields Fit refuge for her young; in artless lays Their sweet melodious throats pour forth thy praise,

Verse 3

Thrice happy all who in thy temple dwell! Thy pow'r, thy praises, they shall constant tell,

Verse 4

Thrice happy they, who on their God rely, And with their victims to his altar hie!

Verse 5

Thro' the dry vale as they direct their way, Their thirst the cooling riv'let shall allay; To fill their cisterns, falls the kindly rain, While the vow'd victims to their God are slain.

Verse 6

Dread God of battles, hear thy servant's pray'r; O to his pious vows incline thy ear;

Verse 7

'Tis thy anointed pleads; his shield art thou; Thy own anointed with indulgence view.

Verse 8

One day within thy courts to him appears, A lot more glorious than a thousand years: The meanest office there I'd nobler own, Than 'mid the wicked an exalted throne,

Verse 9

For, like the beamy monarch of the day, Dost thou the glories of thy light display; Thou, like a shield, thy servants dost defend, And all the blessings of thy mercy send; No blessing to the righteous thou'st deny;

Verse 10

Thrice happy they, that will on thee rely!