Thy Mansion Is the Christian’s Heart

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 Sav­ior 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.