How pleasant, how divinely fair
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
I long to 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
Blest are the souls that find a place
Within the temple of thy grace;
There they behold thy gentle rays,
And seek thy face and learn thy praise.
4
Blest are the men whose hearts are set
To find the way to Zion's gate:
God is their strength; and through the road
They lean upon their helper, God.
5
Cheerful they walk, with growing strength,
Till all shall meet in heaven at length;
Till all before thy face appear,
And join in nobler worship there.