Poems (Hornblower)/Hymn (Thy holy shrine, O God! I seek)

by Jane Elizabeth Roscoe Hornblower

For works with similar titles, see Hymn.

HYMN.

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Thy holy shrine, O God! I seek,
With will devoted, firm, and meek;
And yield Thee all my mortal powers,
To consecrate these sacred hours.

Thine be the praise that swells on high,
From hearts all love and harmony;
Thine be the deep and fervent trust,
That lifts our spirits from the dust.

For visioned glories of thy heaven,
Oh God! our holiest praise he given:
Mansions of peace and purity,
Oh! raise to them our stedfast eye.

Let not one worldly thought return,
While those bright hopes within us burn,
To walk as worthy of the love,
That waits in glorious homes above.

We go again to earthly scenes—
The world, the cold world, intervenes;
Temptations, trials, sorrows come,
But they shall lead us to our home.

Temptations shall our virtue form,
Even in trial's wildest storm;
And the dark hours of mortal woe,
A heavenly Father's smile shall know.

In every change, in every grief,
There will we seek a sure relief,
Still looking upwards to our God,
Till faith's last stedfast step be trod.

Oh! then, as life recedes away,
We'll hail the break of purer day,
And lovelier dreams than angels know
Shall kindle up our dying brow.

Then memories of our Sabbath-day
Shall soothe us, as we pass away;
Ami as our weekly watch they blest,
Speak peace to our eternal rest.