|Text:||O Thou, to Whom in Ancient Time|
1 O thou, to whom in ancient time
the lyre of Hebrew bards was strung,
whom kings adored in songs sublime,
and prophets praised with glowing tongue:
2 not now on Zion's hill alone
thy favored worshipers may dwell,
nor where at sultry nooon thy Son
sat weary by the patriarch's well.
3 For ev'ry place below the skies
the grateful song, the fervent prayer,
the incense of the heart may rise
to heav'n and find acceptance there.
4 To thee shall age with snowy hair,
and strength and beauty bow the knee,
and childhood lisp with rev'rent air
its praises and its prayers to thee.
5 O thou, to whom in ancient time
the lyre of prophet bards was strung,
to thee at last in ev'ry clime
shall temples rise and praise be sung.
|First Line:||O thou, to whom in ancient time|
|Title:||O Thou, to Whom in Ancient Time|
|Author:||John Pierpont (1824)|