1 Come, Jesus, from the sapphire throne,
Where Thy redeemed behold Thy face.
Enter this temple, now Thine own,
And let Thy glory fill the place.
2 We praise Thee that to-day we see
Its sacred walls before Thee stand;
'Tis Thine for us; 'tis ours for Thee;
Reared by Thy kind assisting hand.
3 Oft as returns the day of rest,
Let heartfelt worship here ascend;
With Thine own joy fill every breast,
With Thine own power Thy word attend.
4 Here in the dark and sorrowing day,
Bid Thou the throbbing heart be still;
Oh, wipe the mourner's tears away,
And give new strength to meet Thy will.
5 When round the Board Thine own shall meet,
And keep the feast of dying love,
Be our communion ever sweet
With Thee, and with Thy Church above.
6 Come, faithful Shepherd, feed Thy sheep;
In Thine own arms the lambs enfold;
Give help to climb the heavenward steep,
Till Thy full glory we behold.
Come, Jesus, from the sapphire throne. B. Palmer. [Dedication of a Place of Worship.] Included in his Poetical Works, 1876, p. 78, and dated 1875.
--John Julian, Dictionary of Hymnology, New Supplement (1907)