A Hymn at the Opening of a Charity School

Lift up your heads, ye lofty gates;
Unfold, each spacious door;
For here the King of Glory waits
With blessings for the poor.

"Twas love Divine, 'twas sovereign grace,
True bounty's endless spring,
Did us so near God's altars place,
Where we may pray and sing.

To psalms and hymns we may aspire,
If anthems are too high;
And follow the celestial choir
In decent harmony.

With holy souls we here may meet,
And learn their songs Divine;
Their Hallelujahs loud and sweet
With our Hosannas join.

How blest, if always thus we might
The coming hours employ,
And singing pass to realms of light,
And endless worlds of joy!