Mark xi. 17. THY mansion is the Christian's heart, O Lord, thy dwelling-place secure! Bid the unruly throng depart, And leave the consecrated door. Devoted as it is to thee, A thievish swarm frequents the place; They steal away my joys from me, And rob my Saviour of his praise. There, too, a sharp designing trade Sin, Satan, and the World maintain; Nor cease to press me, and persuade To part with ease, and purchase pain. I know them, and I hate their din; Am weary of the bustling crowd; But while their voice is heard within, I cannot serve thee as I would. Oh for the joy thy presence gives, What peace shall reign when thou art here! Thy presence makes this den of thieves A calm delightful house of prayer. And if thou make thy temple shine, Yet, self-abased, will I adore; The gold and silver are not mine; I give thee what was thine before. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A CHANNEL PASSAGE by RUPERT BROOKE KARMA by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON LITTLE JERRY, THE MILLER by JOHN GODFREY SAXE IN THE FOREST by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS BEFORE VICKSBURG by GEORGE HENRY BOKER COMFORTERS by ABBIE FARWELL BROWN |