To hold communion with his God;
To send to Heaven his warm desires,
And listen to the sacred word.
Blest hour, when God Himself draws nigh,
Well pleased His people’s voice to hear;
To hush the penitential sigh,
And wipe away the mourner’s tear.
Blest hour, for, when the Lord resorts,
Foretastes of future bliss are given;
And mortals find His earthly courts
The house of God, the gate of Heaven.
Hail, peaceful hour! supremely blest
Amid the hours of worldly care;
The hour that yields the spirit rest,
That sacred hour, the hour of prayer.
And when my hours of prayer are past,
And this frail tenement decays,
Then may I spend in Heaven at last
A never-ending hour of praise.
"And he was afraid, and said, How dreadful is this place! this is none other but the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven." Gen. 28:17