Pt 416/Ps 42 As the Hart, About to Falter

1As the hart, about to falter,
In its trembling agony,
Panteth for the brooks water,
So my soul doth pant for Thee.
Yea, athirst for Thee I cry;
God of life, O when shall I
Come again to stand before Thee
In Thy temple, and adore Thee?

2Bitter tears of lamentation
Are my food by night and day;
In my deep humiliation
Where is now thy God? they say.
Yea, my soul doth melt in me,
When I bring to memory,
How of yore I did assemble
With the joyful in Thy temple.

3O my soul, why art thou grieving,
Why disquieted in me?
Hope in God, thy faith retrieving;
Let Him still thy refuge be.
I shall yet extol His grace
For the comfort of His face;
He has ever turned my sorrow
Into gladness on the morrow.

4From the land beyond the Jordan
I bewail my misery;
From the foothills of Mount Hermon,
O my God, I think of Thee.
As the waters plunge and leap,
Deep re-echoes unto deep;
All Thy waves and billows roaring
O'er my troubled soul are pouring.

5But the Lord will send salvation,
And by day His love provide;
He shall be my exultation,
And my song at eventide.
On His praise e'en in the night
I will ponder with delight,
And in prayer, transcending distance,
Seek the God of my existence.

6I will say to God, my fortress:
Why hast Thou forsaken me?
Why go I about in sadness
For my foes' dread tyranny?
Their rebukes and scoffing words
Pierce my bones as pointed swords,
As they say with proud defiance:
Where is God, thy soul's reliance?

7O my soul, why art thou grieving;
Why disquieted in me?
Hope in God, thy faith retrieving;
He will still thy refuge be.
I shall yet through all my days
Give to Him my thankful praise;
God, who will from shame deliver,
Is my God, my rock, forever.