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1 Early my God, without delay,
I haste to seek thy face,
My thirsty spirit faints away
Without thy cheering grace.
2 So pilgrims on the scorching sand,
Beneath a burning sky,
Long for a cooling stream at hand,
And they must drink or die.
3 I’ve seen thy glory and thy pow'r,
Through all thy temple shine;
My God, repeat that heav’nly hour,
That vision so divine.
4 Not all the blessings of a feast
Can please my soul so well,
As when thy richer grace I taste,
And in thy presence dwell.
5 Not life herself, with all her joys,
Can my best passions move,
Or raise so high my cheerful voice,
As thy forgiving love.
6 Thus, till my last expiring day,
I'll bless my God and King;
Thus will I lift my hands to pray,
And tune my lips to sing.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | Early my God, without delay |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1801 |