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!