699. 7s. M. E. H. Chapin. The Same.
1 Father, lo! we consecrate
Unto thee this house and shrine,
Oh! may Jesus visit here,
As he did in Palestine.
Here may blind eyes see his light,
Deaf ears hear his accents sweet,
And we, like those groups of old,
Sit and linger at his feet.
2 And to learn of faith and love,
Strong in sorrow, pain and loss,
May we come and find them here,
In the garden, on the cross.
Like the spices that enfold
Him we love in rich perfume,
May our thoughts embalm him here,
While he slumbers in the tomb.
3 When we watch by shrouded hopes,
Weeping at death's marble door,
May the angels meet us here --
Lo! your Christ has gone before!
And while we stand |looking up,|
In our faith and wonder lost,
Here send down thy Spirit's power,
Like the tongues of Pentecost.