171. Psalm XLII

I. As the poor hart, tir'd in the chase,
Pants for the cool refreshing flood,
So pants my soul for streams of grace,
Thy cheering visits, O my God.

II. For God my thirsty spirit longs,
The sacred spring of living joy;
When shall I come with thankful songs,
Before my God? divine employ!

III. Thro' the sad night and mournful day
My flowing tears have been my food,
While taunting foes continual say,
"And where is now thy Saviour God?"

IV. My melting soul in grief is spent,
When I resolve my happier days;
When with the joyful throng I went
To thy abode with songs of praise.

V. Why, O my soul, thus sink in woe?
Why thus with restless sorrows torn?
Hope thou in God; my song shall flow,
For his bright presence will return.

VI. My heart sinks down oppress'd with grief;
Yet, O my God, I'll call to mind
Those seasons past, for my relief,
When I was blest, and thou wast kind.

VII. Thy terrors overwhelm my soul,
Wave after wave, with dreadful roar;
So stormy seas like mountains roll
And swelling billows drown the shore.

VIII. Yet will the Lord command his care,
His love (sweet morn!) shall chear mine eyes;
And mix'd with praise my nightly pray'r,
God of my life, to thee shall rise.

IX. To thee, I'll cry, my God, my rock;
Ah, why hast thou forgot thy care?
Why mourn I thus beneath the stroke
Of foes, who drive me near despair?

X. Their sharp reproaches pierce my heart
With daily anguish, while they say
(The thought is like a pointed dart,)
Where is thy God, thy boasted stay?

XI. Why sinks my fainting spirit down?
Why do my restless passions mourn?
What, tho' my God a moment frown,
His blissful smile will yet return.

XII. Then shall I spread his pow'r abroad,
His smile my drooping hope shall raise;
My light, my health, my Saviour God,
Shall tune my sighs to songs of praise.

Text Information
First Line: As the poor hart, tir'd in the chase
Title: Psalm XLII
Language: English
Publication Date: 1760
Scripture:
Tune Information
(No tune information)



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