1 The holy song hath died away,
But still it vibrates through our hearts:
And we return, though fain to stay;
Each to his family departs.
2 The morning bade the temple gate
Lift itself high; we entered in,
And on Thee, Lord, presumed to wait,
Thy grace to seek, Thy smile to win.
3 Now for the household sacrifice;
The evening rite as incense spread;
And let our blameless hands arise,
Doubting and wrath for ever fled.
4 Can doubt have place? Thy mercies new
Assure and lift our souls above.
Nor on its altar would we strew
A living coal but that of love.
5 Oh ’tis an hour of holy calm;
Our tabernacle is in peace;
To Thee shall swell the cheerful psalm,
Teach us Thy Word, our faith increase.
6 Zion and Jacob share our vows,
Peace be to both: and grace distill
On God’s, and on His children’s house,
The happy tent, the holy hill.
7 Good, though not best, ’tis to be here,
Soon no such difference shall there be;
"True sanctuary," within Thy sphere
Shall worship "the whole family."
Source: The Cyber Hymnal #9218