All things are thine; no gift have we,
Lord of all gifts, to offer thee:
And hence with grateful hearts today
Thine own before thy feet we lay.

Thy will was in the builders’ thought;
Thy hand unseen amidst us wrought;
Through mortal motive, scheme and plan
Thy wise eternal purpose ran.

No lack thy perfect fullness knew;
For human needs and longings grew
This house of prayer, this home of rest,
In the fair garden of the west.

In weakness and in want we call
On thee for whom the heavens are small;
Thy glory is thy children’s good,
Thy joy thy tender fatherhood.

O father, deign these walls to bless;
Fill with thy love their emptiness;
And let their door a gateway be
To lead us from ourselves to thee.