1 As the chas'd hart with vehemence
pants for the cooling brooks;
So pants my soul for Thee, O GOD,
for Thee so longing looks.
2 My soul for GOD, the living God,
does thirst exceedingly:
Oh, when before the face of GOD
come and appear shall I!
3 My flowing tears have been to me,
as food by night and day;
While, taunting, constantly to me,
"where is thy God?" they say.
4 My soul is poured out in me,
as this I think upon;
How to GOD's house with multitudes
I in times past have gone;
With them, I with the voice of joy,
and praise in triumph sung;
With multitudes, who as we went,
with joy did leap along.
O why art thou cast down my soul?
And why in such distress?
Hope thou in GOD: Him praise I shall:
for health* is from his face.
6 My God, my soul is quite cast down;
Thee therefore mind I will,
From Jordan-land, and Hermon-mount,
and from the Mizar-hill.
7 At sounding of thy water-spouts,
deep loud to deep does call;
thy dashing waves pass over me,
thy rolling billows all.
8 His loving-kindness yet the LORD,
command will in the day;
And in the night his songs with me;
to God my life I'll pray.
9 To God my rock, I'll say, "O why
"dost Thou forget me so?
"Why go I mourning grievously,
"oppressed by my foe?"
10 As with a sword within my bones,
so me my foes upbraid;
While ev'ry day they say to me,
"where is thy God, thy aid?"
11 My soul, O wherefore dost thou bow
thy self down heavily?
And wherefore so disquieted,
and troubled art in me?
Hope thou in GOD, because I shall
with praise Him yet advance;
Who is my God; He also is
health of my countenance.