Text: | Happy the church, thou sacred place |
Author: | Watts |
1 Happy the church, thou sacred place;
The seat of thy Creator’s grace;
Thy holy courts are his abode,
Thou earthly palace of our God.
2 Thy walls are strength, and at thy gates
A guard of heavenly warriors waits;
Nor shall thy deep foundations move,
Fixed on his counsels and his love.
3 Thy foes in vain designs engage;
Against his throne in vain they rage;
Like rising waves with angry roar,
That dash and die upon the shore.
4 Then let our souls in Zion dwell,
Nor fear the wrath of men or hell;
His arms embrace this happy ground,
Like brazen bulwarks built around.
5 God is our Shield, and God our Sun;
Swift as the fleeting moments run;
On us he sheds new beams of grace,
And we reflect his brightest praise.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | Happy the church, thou sacred place |
Author: | Watts |
Meter: | L. M. |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1844 |
Scripture: | |
Topic: | The Church |