PSALM 63
L. M.
Longing after God; or, The love of God better than life.
108 Great God, indulge my humble claim, Thou art my hope, my joy, my rest; The glories that compose thy name Stand all engaged to make me blest. | Thou great and good, thou just and wise, Thou art my Father and my God; And I am thine by sacred ties; Thy son, thy servant, bought with blood | With heart, and eyes, and lifted hands, For thee I long, to thee I look, As travellers in thirsty lands Pant for the cooling water-brook. | With early feet I love t' appear Among thy saints, and seek thy face; Oft have I seen thy glory there, And felt the power of sovereign grace. | Not fruits nor wines that tempt our taste, Nor all the joys our senses know, Could make me so divinely blest, Or raise my cheerful passions so. | My life itself without thy love No taste of pleasure could afford; 'Twould but a tiresome burden prove, If I were banish'd from the Lord. | Amidst the wakeful hours of night, When busy cares afflict my head, One thought of thee gives new delight, And adds refreshment to my bed. | I'll lift my hands, I'll raise my voice, While I have breath to pray or praise; This work shall make my heart rejoice, And spend the remnant of my days. | |