Oh, who is like the Mighty One,
Whose throne is in the sky?
Who compasseth the universe
With his all-searching eye;
At whose creative word appeared
The dry land and the sea:
My spirit thirsts for thee, O Lord,
My spirit thirsts for thee!

2 Around him suns and systems swim
In harmony and light;
Before him, harps angelic hymn
His praises day and night.
Yet to the contrite, night and day,
In mercy turneth he:
My spirit thirsts for thee, O Lord,
My spirit thirsts for thee!

3 Yea! though his works are infinite,
His power upholds them all;
He clothes the lilies of the field,
And marks the sparrow's fall.
Who listens to the raven's cry,
Will bend his ear to me:
My spirit thirsts for thee, O Lord,
My spirit thirsts for thee!