As the hart, about to falter, In its trembling agony, Panteth for the brooks water, So my soul doth pant for Thee. Yea, athirst for Thee I cry; God of life, O when shall I Come again to stand before Thee In Thy temple, and adore Thee?
Bitter tears of lamentation Are my food by night and day; In my deep humiliation Where is now thy God? they say. Yea, my soul doth melt in me, When I bring to memory, How of yore I did assemble With the joyful in Thy temple.
O my soul, why art thou grieving, Why disquieted in me? Hope in God, thy faith retrieving; Let Him still thy refuge be. I shall yet extol His grace For the comfort of His face; He has ever turned my sorrow Into gladness on the morrow.
From the land beyond the Jordan I bewail my misery; From the foothills of Mount Hermon, O my God, I think of Thee. As the waters plunge and leap, Deep re-echoes unto deep; All Thy waves and billows roaring O'er my troubled soul are pouring.
But the Lord will send salvation, And by day His love provide; He shall be my exultation, And my song at eventide. On His praise e'en in the night I will ponder with delight, And in prayer, transcending distance, Seek the God of my existence.
I will say to God, my fortress: Why hast Thou forsaken me? Why go I about in sadness For my foes' dread tyranny? Their rebukes and scoffing words Pierce my bones as pointed swords, As they say with proud defiance: Where is God, thy soul's reliance?
O my soul, why art thou grieving; Why disquieted in me? Hope in God, thy faith retrieving; He will still thy refuge be. I shall yet through all my days Give to Him my thankful praise; God, who will from shame deliver, Is my God, my rock, forever.