The House Of Prayer. - Mark xi.17.

Thy mansion is the Christian's heart, O Lord, thy dwelling-place secure! Bid the unruly throng depart, And leave the consecrated door. Devoted as it is to thee, A thievish swarm frequents the place; They steal away my joys from me, And rob my Saviour of his praise. There too a sharp designing trade, Sin, Satan, and the world maintain; Nor cease to press me, and persuade, To part with ease and purchase pain. I know them, and I hate their din, Am weary of the bustling crowd; But while their voice is heard within I cannot serve thee as I would. Oh! for the joy thy presence gives,— What peace shall reign when thou art here! Thy presence makes this den of thieves A calm delightful house of prayer. And if thou make thy temple shine, Yet, self-abased, will I adore; The gold and silver are not mine,— I give thee what was thine before.