As pants the hart for cooling streams,
When heated in the chase,
So longs my soul, O God, for Thee
And Thy refreshing grace.

For Thee, my God, the living God,
My thirsty soul doth pine;
O, when shall I behold Thy face,
Thou majesty divine?

God of my strength, how long shall I
Like one forgotten mourn,
Forlorn, forsaken and exposed
To my oppressor’s scorn?

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.

To Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,
The God Whom we adore,
Be glory as it was, is now,
And shall be evermore.

As pants the hart for streams of living water,
So longs my soul, O living God, for Thee;
I thirst for Thee, for Thee my heart is yearning;
When shall I come Thy gracious face to see?

O Lord my God, overwhelmed in deep affliction,
Far from Thy rest, to Thee I lift my soul;
Deep calls to deep and storms of trouble thunder,
While over my head the waves and billows roll.

Thou wilt command Thy servant’s consolation,
Thy lovingkindness yet shall cheer my day,
And in the night Thy song shall be my comfort;
God of my life, to Thee I still will pray.

Why, O my soul, art thou cast down within me,
Why art thou troubled and oppressed with grief?
Hope thou in God, the God of thy salvation,
Hope, and thy God will surely send relief.

As thirst the hart for water brooks,
So thirsts my soul, O God, for Thee;
It seeks for God, and ever looks,
And longs the living God to see,
And longs the living God to see.

Far from the courts of God, my tears
Have been my food by night and day,
While constantly with bitter sneers,
Where is thy God? the scoffers say,
Where is thy God? the scoffers say.

With grief I think of days gone by,
When oft I trod the hallowed way
To Zion, praising God on high
With throngs who kept the holy day,
With throngs who kept the holy day.

O why art thou cast down, my soul,
And why so troubled shouldst thou be?
Hope thou in God, and Him extol,
Who gives His saving help to me,
Who gives His saving help to me.

As pants the hart for streams of living water,
So longs my soul, O living God, for Thee;
I thirst for Thee, for Thee my heart is yearning;
When shall I come Thy gracious face to see?

O Lord my God, overwhelmed in deep affliction,
Far from Thy rest, to Thee I lift my soul;
Deep calls to deep and storms of trouble thunder,
While over my head the waves and billows roll.

Thou wilt command Thy servant’s consolation,
Thy lovingkindness yet shall cheer my day,
And in the night Thy song shall be my comfort;
God of my life, to Thee I still will pray.

Why, O my soul, art thou cast down within me,
Why art thou troubled and oppressed with grief?
Hope thou in God, the God of thy salvation,
Hope, and thy God will surely send relief.

Sweet place; sweet place alone!
The court of God most high,
The heaven of heavens, the throne
Of spotless majesty!

Refrain

O happy place!
When shall I be, my God, with Thee,
To see Thy face?

The stranger homeward bends,
And sigheth for his rest:
Heaven is my home, my friends
Lodge there in Abraham’s breast.

Refrain

Earth’s but a sorry tent,
Pitched but a few frail days,
A short leased tenement;
Heaven’s still my song, my praise.

Refrain

No tears from any eyes
Drop in that holy choir:
But death itself there dies,
And sighs themselves expire.

Refrain

There should temptations cease,
My frailties there should end.
There should I rest in peace
In the arms of my best friend.

Refrain

Jerusalem on high
My song and city is,
My home whene’er I die,
The center of my bliss.

Refrain

Thy walls, sweet city! thine
With pearls are garnished,
Thy gates with praises shine,
Thy streets with gold are spread.

Refrain

No sun by day shines there,
No moon by silent night.
O no! these needless are;
The Lamb’s the city’s light.

Refrain

There dwells my Lord, my King,
Judged here unfit to live;
There angels to Him sing,
And lowly homage give.

Refrain

The patriarchs of old
There from their travels cease:
The prophets there behold
Their longed for Prince of peace.

Refrain

The Lamb’s apostles there
I might with joy behold:
The harpers I might hear
Harping on harps of gold.

Refrain

The bleeding martyrs, they
Within those courts are found;
All clothed in pure array,
Their scars with glory crowned.

Refrain

Ah me! ah me! that I
In Kedar’s tents here stay;
No place like this on high;
Thither, Lord! guide my way.

Refrain

Bells of praise! Bells of praise!
How the merry bells are ringing,
Joyous notes their message bringing!
Come where love and mercy meet,
Bells of praise ring clear and sweet.

Refrain

Hark to the bells so sweetly blending;
Go with heart and voice attending;
Love and mercy meet you there,
In this hour of praise and prayer.

Bells of prayer! Bells of prayer!
Oh, how tenderly the pleading,
Weary, longing souls entreating,
Have a pardon full and free!
Bells of prayer entreating thee!

Refrain

Bells of joy! Bells of joy!
Loud and clear the peals are telling
Of the songs of praises swelling.
Worship in yon temple hall;
Bells of joy proclaim the call.

Refrain

Sing we merry Christmas,
Christmas blithe and free!
Time of holy gladness,
Mirth and minstrelsy.
Hark! the merry church bells
Ringing joyously,
Hailing with sweet music
Christ’s nativity.

Haste we to the temple,
Wreathe our garlands green;
Deck each arch and column
For the festive scene.
Glory in the highest!
Hark the angels sing;
Glory in the highest
To our infant King!

Pastor, choir, and people
Join in concert all;
Sing your loudest praises
At our festival.
Joy for us poor exiles
Comes this happy morn;
Jesus our Emmanuel,
Christ, the Lord, is born!

The day Thou gavest, Lord, is ended,
The darkness falls at Thy behest;
To Thee our morning hymns ascended,
Thy praise shall sanctify our rest.

We thank Thee that Thy church, unsleeping,
While earth rolls onward into light,
Through all the world her watch is keeping,
And rests not now by day or night.

As o’er each continent and island
The dawn leads on another day,
The voice of prayer is never silent,
Nor dies the strain of praise away.

The sun that bids us rest is waking
Our brethren ’neath the western sky,
And hour by hour fresh lips are making
Thy wondrous doings heard on high.

So be it, Lord; Thy throne shall never,
Like earth’s proud empires, pass away:
Thy kingdom stands, and grows forever,
Till all Thy creatures own Thy sway.

God of my life, through all my days,
My grateful powers shall sound Thy praise;
My song shall wake with opening light,
And cheer the dark and silent night.

When anxious cares would break my rest,
And griefs would tear my throbbing breast,
Thy tuneful praises, raised on high,
Shall check the murmur and the sigh.

When death o’er nature shall prevail,
And all its powers of language fail,
Joy through my swimming eyes shall break,
And mean the thanks I cannot speak.

But O! when that last conflict’s o’er,
And I am chained to earth no more,
With what glad accents shall I rise
To join the music of the skies!

Soon shall I learn the exalted strains
Which echo through the heavenly plains;
And emulate, with joy unknown,
The glowing seraphs round the throne.

The cheerful tribute will I give,
Long as a deathless soul shall live;
A work so sweet, a theme so high,
Demands and crowns eternity.

God of my life, to Thee I call;
Afflicted, at Thy feet I fall;
When the great water floods prevail
Leave not my trembling heart to fail!

Friend of the friendless and the saint,
Where should I lodge my deep complaint?
Where but with Thee, whose open door
Invites the helpless and the poor!

Did ever mourner plead with Thee,
And Thou refuse that mourner’s plea?
Does not the Word still fixed remain
That none shall seek Thy face in vain?

That were a grief I could not bear,
Didst Thou not hear and answer prayer;
But a prayer hearing, answering God
Supports me under every load.

Fair is the lot that’s cast for me!
I have an Advocate with Thee;
They whom the world caresses most,
Have no such privilege to boast.

Poor thou I am, despised, forgot,
Yet God, my God, forgets me not;
And he is safe, and must succeed,
For whom the Lord vouchsafes to plead.

My Lord, my Life, my Love,
To Thee, to Thee I call;
I cannot live if Thou remove:
Thou art my joy, my all.

My only sun to cheer
The darkness where I dwell;
The best and only true delight
My song hath found to tell.

To Thee in very Heaven
The angels owe their bliss;
To Thee the saints, whom Thou hast called
Where perfect pleasure is.

And how shall man, Thy child,
Without Thee happy be,
Who hath no comfort nor desire
In all the world but Thee?

Return, my Love, my Life;
Thy grace hath won my heart;
If Thou forgive, if Thou return,
I will no more depart.

Slowly sinks the setting sun,
Now the work of day is done;
Lord, we come a thankful throng,
Raise to Thee our evening song.

For Thy tender care bestowed,
For Thy pardoning blood which flowed;
For Thy love that crowns our days,
Lord, accept our grateful praise.

And when sets life’s weary sun,
When the toil of earth is done,
To Thy home of perfect rest,
Lord, receive us, ever blest.

For the robe, the palm, the blood,
May we always praise our God,
And with all the ransomed throng,
Swell high Heaven’s triumphant song.