(Mark, xi.17) <br /> <br />Thy mansion is the Christian's heart, <br />O Lord, Thy dwelling place secure! <br />Bid the unruly throng depart, <br />And leave the consecrated door. <br /> <br />Devoted as it is to Thee, <br />A thievish swarm frequents the place, <br />They steal away my hopes from me, <br />And rob my Saviour of His praise. <br /> <br />There, too, a sharp designing trade <br />Sin, Satan, and the World maintain; <br />Nor cease to press me, and persuade <br />To part with ease, and purchase pain. <br /> <br />I know them, and I hate their din; <br />And weary of the bustling crowd; <br />But while their voice is heard within, <br />I cannot serve Thee as I would. <br /> <br />Oh! for the joy thy presence gives, <br />What peace shall reign when Thou art there; <br />Thy presence makes this den of thieves <br />A calm delightful house of prayer. <br /> <br />And if Thou make Thy temple shine, <br />Yet self-abased, will I adore; <br />The gold and silver are not mine; <br />I give Thee waht was Thine before.<br /><br />William Cowper<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-house-of-prayer/
