In halls once hallowed by the sacred page,
Where prophets’ fire and apostles’ zeal held sway,
Now echoes ring with fashions of the age,
And timid tongues let ancient truths decay. 

The Word of God, a lamp to guide the feet,
A sword to pierce the heart of sin and pride,
Lies dusty on the shelf, its edge grown sweet
With honeyed words that soothe where wounds abide. 

They chase the wind of justice newly wrought,
Of feelings high and doctrines bent to please;
Yet spurn the Rock on which the Church was bought,
And trade the eternal for the passing breeze. 

O shepherds blind, who lead the flock astray,
Repent! Turn back to Christ the living Word.
For when the ancient Truth is cast away,
The house of God becomes a hollow cry. 

Awake, ye saints! Repent and turn to Christ the Word—
That makes the desert bloom with living streams.