You may sing of the beauty of mountain and dale,
Of the silvery streamlet and flow'rs of the vale;
But the place most delightful this earth can afford
Is the place of devotion — the house of the Lord.

You may boast of the sweetness of day's early dawn,
Of the sky's soft'ning graces when day is just gone;
But there's no other season or time can compare
With the house of devotion — the season of pray'r.

You may value the friendships of youth and of age,
And select for my comrades the noble and sage;
But the friends that most cheer me on life's rugged road
Are the friends of my Master — the children of God.

You may talk of your prospects of fame or of wealth,
And the hopes that oft flatter the fav'rites of health;
But the hope of bright glory, of heavenly bliss!
Take away ev'ry other, and give me but this.

Ever hail, blessed temple, abode of my God,
I will turn to thee often to hear from His word;
I will walk to the altar with those that I love,
And delight in the prospect revealed from above.