How pleasant, how divinely fair,

Lord of hosts, thy dwellings are!

With long desire my spirit faints

To meet the assemblies of thy saints.

2 My soul would rest in thine abode,

My panting heart cries out for God;

My God! my King! why should I be

So far from all my joys and thee!

3 Blest are the souls who find a place

Within the temple of thy grace;

There they behold thy gentler rays,

And seek thy face, and learn thy praise.

4 Blest are the men whose hearts are set

To find the way to Zion’s gate;

God is their strength, and through the road,

They lean upon their Helper, God.