Though wandering in a strange land
Though in the waste no altar stand
Take comfort, thou art not alone
While Faith hath marked thee for her own.

Wouldst thou a Temple? look above
The heavens stretch over thee in Love:
A Book! For thine Evangile scan
The wondrous history of man

The holy band of saints renowned
Embrace thee brotherlike around
Then sufferings and their triumphs rise
In hymns immortal to the skies.

What though no organ-peal be heard?
In harmony the winds are stirred
And there the morning stars upraise
Their ancient songs of deathless praise.