1  O Lord, we have loved her fair beauty,

       The house Thou hast chosen for Thee,

    The courts where Thy gladness rejoiceth,

       And where Thou delightest to be.

    We love to be made the fair dwelling

       Where God in His grace may abide;

    We'd cast forth whatever may grieve Thee,

       And welcome none other beside.

 2  O blessed the grace that has made us

       The home of the gladness of God,

    The dwelling wherein Thou delightest,

       The house Thou hast bought with Thy blood.

    'Tis there that Thy joy overfloweth,

       We feel it, we take of it there;

    By all that Thou workest within us,

       Thy temple is holy and fair.

 3  The secret of that inner chamber,

       Thy place is of heavenly rest;

    The stillness of thoughts that adore Thee,

       The shrine that Thou lovest the best.

    The temple where Christ hath His dwelling,

       The souls He hath ransomed, forgiv'n;

    The temple where I have my dwelling,

       Is Christ in the glory of heav'n.