Fugitive Poetry. 1600–1878/"Our Feet shall Stand within Thy Gates"

"Our Feet Shall Stand Within Thy Gates."

Open now Thy gates of beauty,
Zion, let me enter there,
Where my soul in joyful duty
Waits for Him who answers pray'r;
Oh, how blessed is this place,
Bill'd with solace, light, and grace!

Yes, my God, I come before Thee,
Come Thou also down to me;
There we find Thee and adore Thee
There a heaven on earth must he.
To my heart, oh, enter Thou,
Let it be Thy temple now.

Here Thy praise is gladly chanted,
Here Thy seed is duly sown;
Let my soul, where it is planted,
Bring forth precious sheaves alone,
So that all I hear may be
Fruitful unto life in me.

Thou my faith increase and quicken,
Let me keep Thy gift divine
Howsoe'er temptations thicken;
May Thy word still o'er me shine.
As my pole-star through my life,
As my comfort in my strife.

Speak, O God, and I will hear Thee,
Let Thy will be done indeed;
May I undisturbed draw near Thee
While Thou dost Thy people feed;
Here of life the Fountain flows,
Here is balm for all our woes.