I.

When fainting in the sultry waste,
And parch'd with thirst extreme,
The weary pilgrim longs to taste
The cool, refreshing stream;

II.

Should, sudden, to his hopeless eye
A crystal spring appear,
How would th' enlivening sweet supply
His drooping spirits cheer!

III.

So longs the weary fainting mind,
Oppress'd with sins and woes,
Some soul-reviving spring to find,
Whence heavenly comfort flows.

IV.

Thus sweet the consolations are,
The promises impart,
Here flowing streams of life appear,
To ease the panting heart.

V.

O may I thirst for thee, my God,
With ardent, strong desire;
And still through all this desart road,
To taste thy grace aspire.

VI.

Then shall my prayer to thee ascend,
A grateful sacrifice;
My plaintive voice thou wilt attend,
And grant me full supplies.