458 Rolland
How pleasant, how divinely fair, O Lord of hosts, Thy dwellings are! With long desire my spirit faints To meet th'assemblies of Thy saints. My flesh would rest in Thine abode, My panting heart cries out to God: My God, my King, why should I be So far from all my joys and Thee? Cheerful they walk, with growing strength, Till all shall meet in heav'n at length; Till all before Thy face appear, And join in nobler worship there. |