O Glorious In Beauty

Oh, glorious in beauty
The temple rose of old,
Its pillars hung with purple,
Is portals crowned with gold.

Thou art Thyself that temple,
Oh Christ, our Savior, king,
Whom earthly shrine and glory
Were but foreshadowing.

But to the second temple
Came Christ, the temple’s king,
Whom sacrifice and altar
Were but foreshadowing. [Refrain]

Thou art the golden altar
Whereon our gifts are laid;
Thyself the bleeding victim,
By whom our sins are paid. [Refrain]

The veil by which we enter
The holiest shrine within;
The priest who stands in offer
A sacrifice for sin. [Refrain]