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1 As pants the hart for cooling springs,
So longs my soul, O King of kings,
Thy face in near approach to see,
So thirsts, great Source of life, for Thee.
2 With ardent zeal, with strong desires,
To Thee, to Thee my soul aspires;
When shall I reach Thy blest abode?
When meet the presence of my God?
3 God of my strength, attend my cry,
Say why, my great Preserver, why
Excluded from Thy sight I go,
And bend beneath a weight of woe?
4 Why thus, my soul, with care opprest?
And whence the woes that fill my breast?
In all Thy cares, in all Thy woes,
On God thy steadfast hope repose.
6 To Him my thanks shall still be paid,
My sure defence, my constant aid;
His name my zeal shall ever raise,
And dictate to my lips His praise.Source: Book of Worship (Rev. ed.) #402