Great King of glo­ry, come,
And with Thy fa­vor crown
This tem­ple as Thy home,
This peo­ple as Thine own;
Beneath this roof, O deign to show
How God can dwell with men be­low.

In sweet, ex­alt­ed strains
The King of glo­ry praise;
O’er Heav’n and earth He reigns
Through ev­er­last­ing days;
He, with a nod, the world con­trols
Sustains or sinks the dist­ant poles.

To earth He bends His throne,
His throne of grace di­vine;
Wide is His boun­ty known,
And wide His glo­ries shine;
Fair Sa­lem still His chos­en rest
Is with His smiles and pre­sence blest.

Here may Thine ears at­tend
Our in­ter­ced­ing cries,
And grate­ful praise as­cend,
Like in­cense, to the skies:
Here may Thy Word me­lo­di­ous sound,
And spread ce­les­ti­al joys around.

Here may our un­born sons
And daugh­ters sound Thy praise,
And shine, like pol­ished stones,
Through long suc­ceed­ing days;
Here, Lord, dis­play Thy sav­ing pow­er,
While tem­ples stand and men adore.

Here may the list­en­ing throng
Receive Thy truth in love;
Here Chris­tians join the song
Of se­ra­phim above;
Till all, who hum­bly seek Thy face,
Rejoice in Thy abound­ing grace.