'Twas night in the church-guarded city,
The temple and altar-decked city,
The turreted, spire-adorned city,
The Queen of the North and the West.
And out from the beautiful temples that wealth in its fullness had made,
And out from the haunts that were humble, where Poverty peacefully
prayed,
Where praises and thanks had been offered to Him where they rightly
belonged,
In peacefulness quietly homeward the worshiping multitude thronged.
The Pharisee, laden with riches and jewelry, costly and rare,
Who proudly deigned thanks to Jehovah he was not as other men are;
The penitent, crushed in his weakness, and laden with pain and with sin;
The outcast who yearningly waited to hear the glad bidding, "Come in;"
And thus went they quietly homeward, with sins and omissions confessed,
In spire-adorned, templed Chicago, the Queen of the North and the West.