Behold the temple of the Lord! the work of God, by man abhorred, appearing fair and splendid; its walls are built in spite of foes, and though a hostile world oppose, the work will yet be ended. A building this, not made with hands; on firm foundations, lo, it stands, for God himself has laid them; the workmanship of God alone, the rich materials all his own: 'twas he himself that made them. He builds it for his glory's sake, its solid frame no force can shake, although the world despise it; and time, that other work destroys, 'gainst this in vain its power employs; the work of God defies it. From age to age his work goes on, the stones collected one by one; ere long it will be finished: and when he works his grand design, the temple will for ever shine with luster undiminished.