We can­not build alone;
To rear, great God, to Thee,
A house which Thou wilt own,
Thou must the build­er be.
Not by our might, but Thy pow­er,
Must dome and tow­er take up­ward flight,
Must dome and tow­er take up­ward flight.

Were all the stones that lie
Unquarried ’neath the sod
Piled up against the sky,
It were not wor­thy God.
To make this dear, Lord, con­des­cend
Thy head to bend and en­ter here,
Thy head to bend and en­ter here.

Let faith here rear to God!
Here love erect her thrones!
A house for Thine abode
Be built of live­ly stones!
We do not err, O Ho­ly Ghost!
Pure hearts Thou dost to fanes pre­fer,
Pure hearts Thou dost to fanes pre­fer.

The heav’n­ly on­ly stands:
Earth brief­ly ty­pi­fies
The house not made with hands,
Eternal in the skies—
We see its tow­ers: how sweet to know,
When hence we go, that house is ours!
When hence we go, that house is ours!