IN CHURCH.

I never feel so near to God and heaven As when I kneel in worship at thy side, And hear thy humble prayer to be forgiven For sake of Him who for our saving died. And though I do not mingle with thy prayer Plea of my own, but, silent, bow my head, So close our souls are knit, I seem to share The bounteous blessings God on thee doth shed. I hear the choir their joyous praises singing, But not their voices soften my flint heart; Thine only in my inmost soul is ringing, Bidding peace enter, grief and sin depart. And as the music through my pulse is stealing, The rampart of my pride a ruin falls, Even as of old the Jewish trumpets’ pealing Shook down of haughty Jericho the walls.