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Mark 11:17
The House of Prayer
Thy mansion is the Christians heart, O Lord, Thy dwelling-place secure! Bid the unruly throng depart, And leave the consecrated door.
Devoted as it is to Thee, A thievish swarm frequents the place; They steal away my joys from me, And rob my Saviour of His praise.
There, too, a sharp designing trade Sin, Satan, and the World maintain; Nor cease to press me, and persuade To part with ease, and purchase pain.
I know them, and I hate their din; Am weary of the bustling crowd; But while their voice is heard within, I cannot serve Thee as I would.
Oh! for the joy Thy presence gives, What peace shall reign when Thou art there; Thy presence makes this den of thieves A calm delightful house of prayer.
And if Thou make Thy temple shine, Yet, self-abased, will I adore: The gold and silver are not mine; I give Thee what was Thine before.
Olney Hymns, by William Cowper, from Cowpers Poems, Sheldon & Company, New York
  
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