Psalm XLII

Verse 1

As the poor hart, tir'd in the chase, Pants for the cool refreshing flood, So pants my soul for streams of grace, Thy cheering visits, O my God.

Verse 2

For God my thirsty spirit longs, The sacred spring of living joy; When shall I come with thankful songs, Before my God? divine employ!

Verse 3

Thro' the sad night and mournful day My flowing tears have been my food, While taunting foes continual say, "And where is now thy Saviour God?"

Verse 4

My melting soul in grief is spent, When I resolve my happier days; When with the joyful throng I went To thy abode with songs of praise.

Verse 5

Why, O my soul, thus sink in woe? Why thus with restless sorrows torn? Hope thou in God; my song shall flow, For his bright presence will return.

Verse 6

My heart sinks down oppress'd with grief; Yet, O my God, I'll call to mind Those seasons past, for my relief, When I was blest, and thou wast kind.

Verse 7

Thy terrors overwhelm my soul, Wave after wave, with dreadful roar; So stormy seas like mountains roll And swelling billows drown the shore.

Verse 8

Yet will the Lord command his care, His love (sweet morn!) shall chear mine eyes; And mix'd with praise my nightly pray'r, God of my life, to thee shall rise.

Verse 9

To thee, I'll cry, my God, my rock; Ah, why hast thou forgot thy care? Why mourn I thus beneath the stroke Of foes, who drive me near despair?

Verse 10

Their sharp reproaches pierce my heart With daily anguish, while they say (The thought is like a pointed dart,) Where is thy God, thy boasted stay?

Verse 11

Why sinks my fainting spirit down? Why do my restless passions mourn? What, tho' my God a moment frown, His blissful smile will yet return.

Verse 12

Then shall I spread his pow'r abroad, His smile my drooping hope shall raise; My light, my health, my Saviour God, Shall tune my sighs to songs of praise.