1 O Lord of hosts, whose glory fills
The bounds of the eternal hills,
And yet vouchsafst, in Christian lands,
To dwell in temples made with hands.

2 Grant that all we, who here to-day
Rejoicing this foundation lay,
May be in very deed Thine own,
Built on the precious corner-stone.

3 The heads that guide endue with skill,
The hands that work preserve from ill,
That we, who these foundations lay,
May raise the topstone in its day.

4 Both now and ever, Lord, protect
The temple of Thine own elect;
Be Thou in them, and they in Thee,
O ever-blessed Trinity!