As pants the wearied hart for cooling springs
1
As pants the wearied hart for cooling springs,That sinks exhausted in the summer's chase,So pants my soul for thee, great King of kings,So thirsts to reach thy sacred dwelling-place.
2
Lord, thy sure mercies, ever in my sight,My heart shall gladden through the tedious day;And 'midst the dark and gloomy shades of night,To thee, my God, I 'll tune the grateful lay.
3
Why faint, my soul? why doubt Jehovah's aid?Thy God the God of mercy still shall prove;Within his courts thy thanks shall yet be paid;Unquestioned be his faithfulness and love.