O Thou, to Whom in Ancient Time

O thou, to whom in ancient time
the lyre of Hebrew bards was strung,
whom kings adored in songs sublime,
and prophets praised with glowing tongue:

not now on Zion's hill alone
thy favored worshipers may dwell,
nor where at sultry nooon thy Son
sat weary by the patriarch's well.

For ev'ry place below the skies
the grateful song, the fervent prayer,
the incense of the heart may rise
to heav'n and find acceptance there.

To thee shall age with snowy hair,
and strength and beauty bow the knee,
and childhood lisp with rev'rent air
its praises and its prayers to thee.

O thou, to whom in ancient time
the lyre of prophet bards was strung,
to thee at last in ev'ry clime
shall temples rise and praise be sung.