With earnest longings of the mind,

My God, to thee I look;

So pants the hunted hart to find

And taste the cooling brook.

2 When shall I see thy courts of grace,

And meet my God again?

So long an absence from thy face,

My heart endures with pain.

3 ’Tis with a mournful pleasure now,

I think on ancient days;

Then to thy house did numbers go,

And all our work was praise.

4 But why, my soul, sunk down so far,

Beneath this heavy load?

Why do my thoughts indulge despair;

And sin against my God?

5 Hope in the Lord, whose mighty hand

Can all thy woes remove;

For I shall yet before him stand,

And sing restoring love.