Psalm 63:1. 1 2 5 34. First Part. C. M.
The morning of a Lord’s day.
Early, my God, without delay
I haste to seek thy face;
My thirsty spirit faints away,
Without thy cheering grace.
So pilgrims on the scorching sand,
Beneath a burning sky,
Long for a cooling stream at hand,
And they must drink or die.
I’ve seen thy glory and thy power
Thro’ all thy temple shine;
My God, repeat that heavenly hour,
That vision so divine.
Not all the blessings of a feast
Can please my soul so well,
As when thy richer grace I taste,
And in thy presence dwell.
Not life itself with all her joys,
Can my best passions move,
Or raise so high my cheerful voice
As thy forgiving love.
Thus till my last expiring day
I’ll bless my God and King;
Thus will I lift my hands to pray,
And tune my lips to sing.