How lovely are thy tents, O Lord

Verse 1

How lovely are Thy tents, O Lord! Where’er Thou choosest to record Thy name, or place Thy house of prayer; My soul outflies the angel choir, And faints, o’erpowered with strong desire, To meet Thy special presence there.

Verse 2

My heart and flesh cry out for God; There would I fix my soul’s abode, As birds that in the altars nest; There would I all my young ones bring, An offering to my God and king, And in Thy courts for ever rest.

Verse 3

Happy the men to whom ’tis given, To dwell within that gate of Heaven, And in Thy house record Thy praise; Whose strength and confidence Thou art, Who feel Thee, Savior, in their heart, The Way, the Truth, the Life of grace:

Verse 4

Who, passing through the mournful vale, Drink comfort from the living well, That flows replenished from above; From strength to strength advancing here, Till all before their God appear, And each receives the crown of love.

Verse 5

Better a day Thy courts within Than thousands in the tents of sin; How base the noblest pleasure there! How great the weakest child of Thine! His meanest task is all divine, And kings and priests Thy servants are.

Verse 6

The Lord protects and cheers His own, Their light and strength, their shield and sun; He shall both grace and glory give; Unlimited His bounteous grant; No real good they e’er shall want; All, all is theirs, who righteous live.

Verse 7

O Lord of hosts, how blest is he Who steadfastly believes in Thee! He all Thy promises shall gain; The soul that on Thy love is cast Thy perfect love on earth shall taste, And soon with Thee in glory reign.