1 How pleasant, how divinely fair,
O Lord of Hosts, thy Dwellings are!
With long Desire my Spirit faints
To meet th' Assemblies of thy Saints.
2 My Flesh would rest in thine Abode,
My panting Heart cries out for GOD;
My GOD! my King! why should I be
So far from all my Joys and Thee?
3 The Sparrow chuses where to rest,
And for her Young provides her Nest;
But will my GOD to Sparrows grant
That Pleasure which his Children want?
4 Blest are the Saints who sit on high
Around thy Throne of Majesty;
Thy brightest Glories shine above,
And all their Work is Praise and Love.
5 Blest are the Souls who find a Place
Within the Temple of thy Grace;
There they behold thy gentler Rays,
And seek thy Face, and learn thy Praise.
6 Blest are the Men whose Hearts are set
To find the Way to Sion's Gate;
GOD is their Strength, and thro' the Road
They lean upon their Helper. GOD.
7 Chearful they walk with growing Strength,
'Till all shall meet in Heav'n at length,
'Till all before thy Face appear,
And join in nobler Worship there.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | How pleasant, how divinely fair |
Title: | The Pleasure of Publc Worship |
Meter: | Long Metre |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1740 |
Scripture: | |
Topic: | Church: God's presence there; Delight and Safety in Church; Glorification: and Grace promised(2 more...) |
Notes: | Public Domain. |