Songs We Like to Sing
R. Lowth E. J. Hopkins
That sinks exhausted in the summer's chase,
So pants my soul for thee, great King of kings,
So thirsts to reach thy sacred dwellingplace.
Lord, thy sure mercies, ever in my sight,
My heart shall gladden thro' the tedious day;
And 'midst the dark and gloomy shades of night,
To thee, my God, I'll tune the grateful lay.
Why faint, my soul? why doubt Hehovah's aid?
Thy God the God of mercy still shall prove;
Within his courts thy thanks shall yet be paid;
Unquestion'd be his faithfulness and love.
© 1999, 2003, Lynn Waterman