(Mark, xi.17) br br Thy mansion is the Christian's heart, br O Lord, Thy dwelling place secure! br Bid the unruly throng depart, br And leave the consecrated door. br br Devoted as it is to Thee, br A thievish swarm frequents the place, br They steal away my hopes from me, br And rob my Saviour of His praise. br br There, too, a sharp designing trade br Sin, Satan, and the World maintain; br Nor cease to press me, and persuade br To part with ease, and purchase pain. br br I know them, and I hate their din; br And weary of the bustling crowd; br But while their voice is heard within, br I cannot serve Thee as I would. br br Oh! for the joy thy presence gives, br What peace shall reign when Thou art there; br Thy presence makes this den of thieves br A calm delightful house of prayer. br br And if Thou make Thy temple shine, br Yet self-abased, will I adore; br The gold and silver are not mine; br I give Thee waht was Thine before.