Into the secret chamber of my heart,
Wherein no mortal enters, Lord, come thou
And make thy dwelling-place ere day depart!
Even now the clouds are golden in the west;
The long, slant shadows creep across the way;
The glory fades on yonder mountain-crest.
It will be nightfall soon, for faint and far
The pallid moon, a silver crescent, hangs
Above the low reach of the horizon bar.
And night is lonely and beset with fears!
Come thou, O Lord, come in and dwell with me
Through the long darkness till the dawn appears!
O thou who didst create the human heart,
Didst thou not make one sure place for thyself?
It is high sanctuary where thou art!
Thou knowest, ah! thou knowest! Words are weak.
When the tongue falters and the lips are dumb,
Thou knowest all the yearning heart would speak!
The unuttered prayer thou hearest. Lo! the shrine
Waits for thy presence! Ere the day be done
Take thou possession, O thou Guest Divine!