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1 As thirsts the hart for cooling flood,
So longs my soul, O living God,
To taste Thy grace;
When unto thee shall I draw near,
O when within Thy courts appear,
And see Thy face?
2 How oft I lead the happy throngs
That sought the house of God with songs
Of joy and praise;
I ever joined with true delight
The multitude that kept aright
The holy days.
3 O why, my soul, thy hopelessness?
Why such disquiet and distress?
On God rely;
For I shall yet behold His face,
Who is my God, and I His grace
The Psalter: with responsive readings, 1912