The Altar

A broken Altar, Lord, thy servant rears,
Made of a heart, and cemented with tears:
 Whose parts are as thy hand did frame;
 No workman's tool hath touched the same.
             A Heart alone
             Is such a stone,
             As nothing but
             Thy pow'r doth cut.
             Wherefore each part
             Of my hard heart
             Meets in this frame,
             To praise thy name:
 That if I chance to hold my peace,
 These stones to praise thee may not cease.
O let thy blessed Sacrifice be mine,
And sanctify this Altar to be thine.