Lord , as the hart, imbost with heat,
Brays after the cool rivulet,
So sighs my soul for Thee.
My soul thirsts for the Living God;
When shall I enter His abode,
And there His beauty see?

Tears are my food both night and day,
While, Where's thy God, they daily say.
My soul in plaints I shed,
When I remember, how in throngs
We fill'd Thy house with praise and songs;
How I their dances led.

My soul, why art thou so depress'd?
Why O thus troubled in my breast?
With grief so overthrown?
With constant hope on God await:
I yet His name shall celebrate,
For mercy timely shown.

My fainting heart within me pants:
My God, consider my complaints;
My songs shall praise Thee still:
Ev'n from the vale where Jordan flows;
Where Hermon his high forehead shows,
From Mitsar's humble hill.

Part II.

Deeps unto deeps enraged call,
When Thy dark spouts of waters fall,
And dreadful tempest raves:
For all Thy floods upon me burst,
And billows after billows thrust
To swallow in their graves.

But yet by day the Lord will charge
His ready mercy to enlarge
My soul, surpris'd with cares;
He gives my songs their argument;
God of my life, I will present
By night to Thee my pray'rs;

And say: My God, my Rock, O why
Am I forgot, and mourning die,
By foes reduc'd to dust?
Their words like weapons pierce my bones;
While still they echo to my groans,
Where is the Lord thy trust?

My soul, why art thou so deprest?
O why so troubled in my breast?
Sunk underneath thy load;
With constant hope on God await,
For I His name shall celebrate;
My Saviour, and my God.