I stood within the stranger’s land,
In the stranger’s house of prayer;
And much of solemn beauty
And food for thought was there.
And though I felt not as they felt,
When at the shrine they bowed;
I prayed for them as there they knelt,
Though I could not pray aloud.
I heard them breathe the name of one,
Whom they believed divine;
And I sighed to think their worship
And their faith were not as mine.
I thought upon thee, Zion,
I thought upon thee there,
As I stood within the stranger’s land,
In the stranger’s house of prayer.
I thought upon thy temple,
With its pure and holy shrine;
And I prayed the faith of all mankind,
Might be one day as mine.
