O CHURCH of Christ! O House not made with hands; Nor builded on the smooth and treacherous sands That ever fail; But on unchanging Truth's eternal rock, Where storms of doubt and angry tempests' shock Can ne'er prevail! Thou stand'st secure, while earthly temples fall; And peace and joy are found within thy wall, Where Love doth reign! Thy light doth constant shine for mortals' weal, And will eternal Love for aye reveal In sweet refrain. Thy gates are shut to sickness, sin, and death; For only Purity here entereth,— Naught that defiles.
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