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 CERTAIN POET ON THE DEBATES by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE FORGOTTEN GRAVE by EMILY DICKINSON ODE FOR A SOCIAL MEETING, WITH SLIGHT ALTERATIONS BY A TEETOTALER by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES ODES I, 9. TO WINTER by QUINTUS HORATIUS FLACCUS THE GALLOWS by PHILIP EDWARD THOMAS THE MORAL FABLES: THE TALE OF THE COCK, AND THE JEWEL by AESOP |