As pants the hart for cooling streams
When
heated in the chase,
So
longs my soul, O God, for Thee,
And
Thy refreshing grace.
2
For
Thee, my God, the living God,
My
thirsty soul doth pine:
O
when shall I behold Thy face,
Thou
Majesty divine?
3
Why
restless, why cast down, my soul?
Hope
still, and thou shalt sing
The
praise of Him who is Thy God,
Thy
health’s eternal spring.
4
To
Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,
Then
God whom we adore,
Be
glory, as it was, is now,
And
shall be evermore.