No sleep nor slum­ber to his eyes
Good Da­vid would af­ford,
Till He had found be­low the skies
A dwell­ing for the Lord.

The Lord in Si­on placed His name,
His ark was set­tled there;
To Si­on the whole na­tion came
To wor­ship thrice a year.

But we have no such lengths to go,
Nor wan­der far abroad;
Where’er Thy saints as­sem­ble now,
There is a house for God.

Arise, O King of grace, arise
And en­ter to Thy rest!
Lo! Thy Church waits with long­ing eyes
Thus to be owned and blest.

Enter with all Thy glo­ri­ous train
Thy Spir­it and Thy Word;
All that the ark did once con­tain
Could no such grace af­ford.

Here, migh­ty God, ac­cept our vows,
Here let Thy praise be spread;
Bless the pro­vi­sions of Thy house,
And fill Thy poor with bread.

Here let the Son of Da­vid reign,
Let God’s An­oint­ed shine;
Justice and truth His court main­tain
With love and pow­er di­vine.

Here let Him hold a last­ing throne;
And as His king­dom grows,
Fresh hon­ors shall ad­orn His crown,
And shame con­found His foes.