1 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 Temptations vex my weary Soul,
And Tears are my Repast;
The Foe insults without Controul,
"And where's your GOD at last?"

4 'Tis with a mournful Pleasure now
I think on ancient Days;
Then to thy House did Numbers go,
And all our Work was Praise.

5 But why, my Soul, sunk down so far
Beneath this heavy Load?
Why do my Thoughts indulge Despair,
And sin against my GOD?

6 Hope in the Lord, whose mighty Hand
Can all thy Woes remove,
For I shall yet before him stand,
And sing restoring Love.