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 pow'r Thro' all Thy temple shine; My God, repeat that heav'nly hour, That vision so divine.