O Lord of Hosts, Whose Glory Fills

O Lord of hosts, whose glory fills
The bounds of the eternal hills,
And yet vouchsafes, in Christian lands,
To dwell in temples made with hands.

Grant that all we, who here today
Rejoicing this foundation lay,
May be in very deed Thine own,
Built on the precious Corner Stone.

Endue the creatures with Thy grace
That shall adorn Thy dwelling place;
The beauty of the oak and pine,
The gold and silver, make them Thine.

To thee they all belong, to thee
The treasures of the earth and sea;
And when we bring them to thy throne
We but present thee with thine own.

The heads that guide endue with skill;
The hands that work preserve from ill;
That we, who these foundations lay,
May raise the topstone in its day.

AMEN.