Built on the Rock the Church doth stand,
Even when steeples are falling
Crumbled have spires in ev'ry land,
Bells still chiming and calling,
Calling the young and old to rest,
But above all the souls distrest,
Longing for rest everlasting.

Not in our temples made with hands
God, the almighty, is dwelling
High in the heav'ns His temple stands,
All earthly temples excelling
Yet He who dwells in heav'n above
Deigns to abide with us in love,
Making our bodies His temples.

We are God's house of living stones,
Built for His own habitation
He fills our hearts, His humble thrones,
Granting us life and salvation.
Where two or three to seek his face,
He in their midst would show His grace,
Blessings upon them bestowing.

Yet in this house, an earthly frame,
Jesus his children is blessings
Hither we come to praise His name,
Faith in our Saviour confessing.
Jesus to us His Spirit sent,
Making with us his covenant,
Granting his children the kingdom.

Through all the passing years, O Lord,
Grant that, when church bells are ringing,
Many may come to hear God's Word
where He this promise is bringing:
I know My own, My own know Me:
You, not the world, My face shall see,
My peace l leave with you. Amen.