1 As pants the hart for cooling streams
when heated in the chase,
so longs my soul, O God, for thee,
and thy refreshing grace.

2 For thee, my God, the living God,
my thirsty soul doth pine:
O when shall I behold thy face,
thou majesty divine?

3 Why restless, why cast down, my soul?
hope still, and thou shalt sing
the praise of him who is thy God,
thy health's eternal spring.

4 To Father, Son and Holy Ghost,
the God whom we adore,
be glory, as it was, is now,
and shall be evermore.