Hymn for the Dedication of a Church

Where ancient forests round us spread, Where bends the cataract’s ocean-fall, On the lone mountain’s silent head, There are thy temples, God of all! Beneath the dark-blue, midnight arch, Whence myriad suns pour down their rays, Where planets trace their ceaseless march, Father! we worship as we gaze. The tombs thine altars are; for there, When earthly loves and hopes have fled, To thee ascends the spirit’s prayer, Thou God of the immortal dead. All space is holy; for all space Is filled by thee; but human thought Burns clearer in some chosen place, Where thy own words of love are taught. Here be they taught; and may we know That faith thy servants knew of old; Which onward bears through weal and woe, Till Death the gates of heaven unfold! Nor we alone; may those whose brow Shows yet no trace of human cares, Hereafter stand where we do now, And raise to thee still holier prayers!