Thus saith the Lord, The heaven is my throne, and the earth is my footstool: where is the house that ye build unto me? and where is the place of my rest?—Isaiah, 66:1.
Where is the house that ye build me? this question will come
To every one seeking a permanent home.
Is your foundation of sand, your structure of dust,
A building corrupted by moth and by rust;
Erected for time, which is but mortal thought,
And e'er must exist to the Father as naught?
Will ye build on the Christ, the one Rock, so sure,
Sublime, and so beautiful, holy, and pure?
Adding stone after stone to the Temple of Love,
Which ever grows higher by what you can prove;
A spiritual mansion, eternal and blest,
And known to our God, as the place of His rest.
The habit of faltering and distinguishing and concealing, and putting forward the edge of the truth instead of showing boldly the full face of it, at last leads men into an insincerity so habitual that they really do not know when they speak the truth or not.—
