How Dear to Me, O Lord of Hosts

How dear to me

O Lord of Hosts

The place where Thou dost dwell;

The ta­ber­na­cles of Thy grace

In plea­sant­ness ex­cel.

My spir­it longs

yea

ev­en faints

Thy sac­red courts to see;

My thirst­ing heart and flesh cry out

O liv­ing God

for Thee.

Beneath Thy care the spar­row finds

A place of peace­ful rest;

Where she may safe­ly lay her young

The swal­low finds a nest.

Then

Lord of Hosts

my king

my God

Thy love will shel­ter me;

Beneath Thy al­tar’s peace­ful shade

My dwell­ing place shall be.

Blest they who dwell with­in Thy house

Their per­fect strength Thou art;

Their joy­ful praise shall nev­er cease

Thy ways are in their heart.

Their tears of grief

like ear­ly rain

Sweet springs of joy shall fill;

With strength re­newed they jour­ney safe

To Zi­on’s ho­ly hill.