From Every Place

1O Thou to whom, in ancient time,
The psalmist's sacred harp was strung,
Whom kings adored in songs sublime,
And prophets praised with glowing tongue,

2From ev'ry place below the skies,
The grateful song, the fervent prayer— The incense of the heart— may rise To heav'n, and find acceptance there.

3To Thee shall age, with snowy hair,
And strength, and beauty, bend the knee,
And childhood lisp with rev'rent air Its praises and its prayers to Thee.