As the Hart, with Eager Looks

As the hart

with ea­ger looks

Panteth for the wa­ter-brooks

So my soul

athirst for Thee

Pants the liv­ing God to see;

When

O when

with fi­li­al fear

Lord

shall I to Thee draw near?

Tears my food by night

by day

Grief con­sumes my strength away;

While his craft the tempt­er plies

Where is now thy God? he cries;

This would sink me to des­pair

But I pour soul in pray­er.

For in ha­ppi­er times I went

Where the mul­ti­tudes fre­quent;

I

with them

was wont to bring

Homage to Thy courts

my King:

I

with them

was wont to raise

Festal hymns on ho­ly days.

Why art thou cast down

my soul?

God

thy God

shall make thee whole;

Why art thou dis­qui­et­ed?

God shall lift thy fall­en head;

And His coun­te­nance be­nign

Be the sav­ing health of thine.